


The Death of Haruna the Deathless

by zetsubooty



Category: Ookiku Furikabutte | Big Windup!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Animal Death, Canon parallels, M/M, Russian Mythology, bc im a sucker for that shit, but like. they do a Fite and there are monsters and shit., it's not like a Big Feature in the story but I wanna warn people, same with the violence warning im not into writing super gory stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-13 22:21:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 35,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28535811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zetsubooty/pseuds/zetsubooty
Summary: Life is hard for the common folk in a country ruled by a selfish and cruel wizard. Mihashi has gotten by working as a monster hunter, defending those even weaker than him from the strange creatures that sometimes invade their lands and wreak havoc. He never expected to be noticed, let alone sought out by someone like the hero Momoe Maria, but he finds himself drawn into a scheme to save their homeland from ruin.What adventures wait for their intrepid group in the wilds? Will they ever reach the fabled island of Buyan? And can Mihashi learn to work with Abe, the one who hatched this risky plot?
Relationships: Abe Takaya & Mihashi Ren, Abe Takaya/Mihashi Ren, Mihashi Ren & Tajima Yuuichirou
Comments: 18
Kudos: 26





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Hiroeth, for the 2020 Oofuri Secret Santa exchange! I snooped on your tumblr and saw you speak Russian, so I thought I'd bring some slavic fairytale razzle dazzle~~ I really hope you like it! I had such a good time working on this.
> 
> Also I swear this is not an excuse to beat on Haruna I love that dumb bastard lmao I promise there are Reasons

“No, it has to be you.”

Mihashi stares down at his fingers wrapped around a mug of something brown and fetid he’s not sure he should drink. After a second, he steals another glance at the woman across from him and her intimidating smile, and beside her… Mihashi snatches his gaze back to his hands, shoulders hunching.

“Just give us an answer already! Yes or no, it’s not that hard.”

“Abe.” Momoe doesn’t raise her voice, but there’s power in it just the same. “Don’t think I chose you lightly. What we’re planning, it’s not child’s play, and I need a strong team.”

Her companion might be unknown to him, but Mihashi’s heard plenty about Momoe, everyone has. She’s taken on some of the most dangerous beasts, fought alongside the strongest heroes in the realm. There’s a rumour that when her companion was assassinated, her vengeance was swift and merciless, and now no one even remembers the name of his killer. Rumours, too, of her kindness. That when the cruel wizard sets his sights on you, it’s her name you should pray to.

The idea that someone like her would want his help with anything is utterly incomprehensible. And terrifying. And exhilarating.

Though he doesn’t look up, Mihashi frowns. “But…you can’t tell…me what…”

“Mm-hm! It’s that important.” Elbows on the table, she leans towards him. “I’m also saying that I trust you, Mihashi.  _ We _ trust you. I’m only asking you to trust me.”

He bites his lip, rubbing at a loose thread.

“Look, is it money? Do you want money?” Peripherally, he can see Abe lean in towards him. Mihashi shakes his head frantically; not like he’d turn down payment, but that’s not what makes him hesitate. Abe sits back with a disgusted noise.

_ I’m making them mad. They know they’re just wasting their time with me, so why…? _

Mihashi risks another glance at Momoe. She’s still watching him calmly over her laced fingers.

“Is it not knowing? Is it that much of a dealbreaker?” Abe leans back in his chair, crossing his arms. “Because if that’s it, you’ll know tomorrow. You’re our last stop.”

_ There it is _ . Mihashi smiles to himself. Whatever Momoe says, there’s no way he’s anything more than a second choice. A substitution for someone better, stronger, who said no. At least that means they’re not expecting much from him.

A hand smacks down on the table; Mihashi jumps. “Momoe, how much longer are we going to waste on this guy? We still have preparations to make. Besides,” Abe glances at the few other tavern patrons, “I don’t like being in town this long.”

Out of the chaotic mess of fears in Mihashi’s heart, a new one rises: that they might give up on him. That he might be left behind, to wither away in this town, his days of adventuring already behind him.

“I--I’ll do it! I…” He clutches the front of his tunic, finally daring to look up again.

“Good!” Abe says, loud enough to make the people at the other tables glance over. More than loud enough to leave Mihashi reeling. Though for the first time since he’d met them, Abe looks pleased, and Mihashi relaxes a fraction.

Only to seize up when Abe grabs the front of his coat and hauls him across the table until they’re nose-to-nose. Mihashi’s cup rolls slowly off the table to spill its contents on the floor, drawing more looks. “Now, why the hell did you make us waste an hour in this shithole trying to convince you?”

“I…I…” Mihashi barely hears the question, nevermind coming up with a coherent answer. All he can think is  _ so close _ , those grey eyes boring into him.

“Right, that’s settled!” Momoe claps her hands together, apparently ignoring Abe’s actions. “Meet us at the first waypost north of town, dawn tomorrow. Welcome to the team, Mihashi.”

* * *

Mihashi slips through the predawn shadows of the town he’s called home for the past three years. He stops to adjust his pack and the slings hanging at his belt, glancing around warily. Even if he doesn’t know what they’re planning exactly, the air of secrecy has him nervous. He tugs his collar a little higher, as if that could hide him from prying eyes.

The sensation reminds him of unfamiliar hands gripping his coat, of warm breath on his cheeks. Suddenly feeling strange, Mihashi hunches his shoulders and hurries down the path.

Though his ammo pouch is full, he keeps his eyes on the ground out of habit. He never knows when he’s going to come across the perfect stone. Like the one he spots just as he leaves the last house behind. It’s smoother than even the smoothest river pebble, just the right shape, and when he plucks it from the ground, has a pleasing weight to it.

_ A good luck charm? _ Mihashi glances around, almost expecting someone to claim ownership of it. He smiles down at it, watching tiny crystal specks catch the first sunbeams, then tucks it into his pouch.

He approaches the meeting point from a back way, still warily glancing about. Voices stop him in his tracks, and though they sound familiar, he drops into a crouch and closes the distance cautiously.

“...Don’t know about this last one.”

“Give him time. How would  _ you _ feel if a pair of strangers showed up and wanted to drag you off into the wilderness on some mystery quest?” The two from yesterday. Mihashi sinks down next to an old stump, cheeks burning.

“It’s not just him, some of these people…” Abe trails off for a minute, then grumbles, “I also doubt the wisdom of taking a small army with us.”

“We don’t know what we’ll encounter up there, past the mountains; we need to be prepared for anything. You came to me because I know people who can get the job done.”

Huddled in the dewy grass, Mihashi’s cheeks warm.  _ Someone like that knew about me? _

“It’s not their skill I doubt, just--”

“I could also remind you that  _ you _ are, from my perspective, an equally unknown and unwise companion.” Mihashi can imagine those brown eyes staring him down, and he has a pang of sympathy for Abe.

The comment seems to catch Abe off guard. “You’ve seen what I can do,” he mutters after a moment.

“Ye--”

What feels like a small cannonball crashes into Mihashi’s back, nearly throwing him facedown in the dirt. Heart pounding, he struggles to keep his balance, fumbling for a knife.

“Whatcha doing, crawling around in the mud?” Crouching behind him is another man similar to him in size, if a bit stockier. His eyes glitter curiously in the faint light. “You the new recruit? Hope you say yes or I’m gonna have to gut you like a fish!”

Mihashi’s mouth flaps, no sound coming out, as he registers the sharp glint of steel in the man’s hands.

“Hey, you kinda look like a fish when your mouth goes like that!” The man cackles as if he hadn’t just threatened to kill anyone.

Before he can defend himself, someone grabs the back of his collar and hauls him to his feet.

“The hell are y--”

“Tajima, this is our newest companion!” Momoe’s voice is a pleasant sing-song that almost terrifies Mihashi more.

“I was right!” He looks Mihashi over again. “You’re pretty sneaky, huh? Not as good as me, though!” He thrusts out a hand, grinning broadly. “Tajima. What’s your name?”

Mihashi’s attention is hopelessly torn between this slightly less terrifying newcomer and the grip still on the back of his coat, pulling it up so his arms stick out awkwardly. “I…Mi…ha…Mi…shi…”

Tajima rubs his neck thoughtfully. “Aimihamishi? Kind of a mouthful…”

“He’s Mihashi.” Abe finally releases him, and he fights not to drop to his knees. “Thanks for letting us know he’s finally here. Let’s hit the road.”

“‘Kay! Camp’s broken, everyone’s ready! Came to tell you.” Tajima straightens with a mock salute, then abruptly grabs Mihashi’s sleeve, yanking him into a run. “C’mon, you gotta meet everyone! You’re gonna love ‘em! Oh, and,” Tajima turns, barely slowing, “stay close, or you’ll get lost.”

He’s a little confused why he’d get lost in woods so close to home, but he hurries after Tajima obediently enough. He spares one last glance over his shoulder, but quickly realises he’ll need to watch his footing, travelling at this pace. After a few paces, he’s glad his eyes are pinned to Tajima’s heels: the sparse woods around him start to twist and blur oddly in a way that makes him feel nauseous. There’s something invigorating about this headlong charge, though, and for the first time since he accepted this task, it doesn’t seem like a terrible idea.

They reach a small clearing where a handful of travelers are making last adjustments. Tajima whoops out a breath. “Isn’t that fun? It’s way better if you run real fast!”

Though he’s not entirely certain he agrees, Mihashi nods, starting to peer around at the people ranged around the space.

One man with short mousy-brown hair appears to be…talking to the flattened grass of the campsite. Another man with soft-looking black hair and a bow strung over his shoulder stands with his arms crossed, and though Mihashi can’t quite take in what he’s saying to the tall man readying the party’s one and only horse, he can hear the sarcastic tone well enough. Another man dressed in loose clothing walks up to them, hand held up placatingly and a worried expression on his face, despite the huge double-bladed polearm he’s carrying

Nearby, a kind-looking woman shoots the trio an amused smile as she pulls a serious-looking tome from a holster at her hip. She flips through and shows a page to a tall man with a long face who looks just as bewildered that he’s here as Mihashi feels. He reads thoughtfully, absently tracing lines in the air that glow for a second before disappearing.

A man with the shaved head and robes of a monk or healer approaches the first man, chuckling softly as he leans on a tall staff. Grass-talker rises, dusting off his knees and shrugging with an embarrassed smile. Now that Mihashi looks again, the grass doesn’t seem so beaten-down; in fact, it looks more vital than it normally would this late in the year. Another man saunters up to them, this one fairer-haired than most and with a goofy smile that brightens when he notices Tajima and Mihashi emerging from the shade.

“Hey! New guy!” Smiling guy charges over to them; grass-talker reaches after him, then heaves a defeated sigh, crouching back down to minister to the freshly-squashed plants. “Glad you could make it. What’s your name?”

“Mi…mi…”

“This’s my friend, Mihashi! …There any leftovers from breakfast?” Not waiting for a response, Tajima darts over to pester the healer, leaving Mihashi staring after him dazedly.

“Fr…?”

“Mizutani.”

Mihashi hauls his attention back to the person in front of him, opening his mouth to ask a question but mustering only a quiet croak. Mizutani doesn’t seem bothered.

“That’s me, I mean. Lemme introduce you to the rest of these guys, c’mon!”

By the time Mizutani’s dragged him around the campsite, Mihashi’s head is spinning. He’d have no chance remembering half the names if he hadn’t already heard them whispered around campfires and tavern tables. But before he can get completely overwhelmed, he hears Momoe calling for them to gather round.

Mihashi hovers on the periphery of the loose circle, searching everyone’s face to see if anyone has any more idea what’s going on than he does.

Momoe glances at Nishihiro. “Are we good?” He makes an embarrassed face, then traces some more glowing sigils in the air, muttering under his breath. The next second, a soft grey-blue dome expands to cover the group. Mihashi isn’t alone in eyeing it nervously.

“Just a little insurance against prying eyes,” Momoe explains. She stands with her arms crossed, a huge double-headed axe at her hip, seeming far taller than anyone around her. Perhaps it’s the small dog sitting patiently at her feet. “You’re all wondering why you’re here. Perhaps some of you have guessed. We all know that this country has a problem.”

People shift uneasily. One by one, Momoe catches everyone’s eyes, staring them down with that relentless smile.

“Long years ago, a sorcerer came to these lands with evil intent. He subjugated the common folk, and destroyed anyone that stood in the way of his expansion. He demanded tithes from even the poorest, and if people could not pay with wealth and goods, they paid with their lives, one way or another. I’d bet everyone here knows someone who was taken to that castle and never came back out.”

Her face softens; when Mihashi looks around, he sees grim or sad faces. Except when his eyes fall on Abe, who’s for some reason staring at him, looking annoyed. Mihashi looks away quickly, shrinking behind Suyama.

Momoe paces, the dog trotting along at her heel. “And why have we put up with this? Because we all know the truth that many have died confirming: that man cannot be killed. No force will bind him, no power will rebuke him. Or so we thought.”

She stills, then gestures to Abe. “This man was able to escape Haruna’s clutches, and he did it with a vital piece of information: Haruna’s invulnerability is because he has secreted his heart away where he thinks it cannot be found.”

Abe nods, stepping forward. “Our goal is an island to the north, called Buyan. Haruna’s heart is concealed in a chest buried under the roots of an oak tree. It’s sealed in a needle, inside an egg, inside a bird, inside a hare. Catching them won’t be easy--that’s why we needed a marksman like Mihashi--but it won’t be easy getting there, either. We’ll have to pass through wildlands that are no friend to humans. But if we can do it, if we can destroy the heart, we will rid our people of this menace.

Abe finishes, leaving only shocked silence. No one moves a muscle; even saying such things would be enough to get them killed.

“It’s…impossible.”

Everyone turns to look at him.

Mihashi hunches in on himself. “It’s impossible, there’s…” He’s fought the things that get into human lands; he shudders to think what kinds of creatures might lurk outside. “Impossible…”

He looks up just in time to see Momoe advancing on him. “I don’t want to hear that kind of talk,” she snaps. “I’m not going to sugarcoat it, this is incredibly dangerous. The only way we’re going to make it is if we can trust each other, believe in each other, believe in ourselves. Attitude like that brings everyone down; it has no place here.” She turns to look at the rest of the group. “Anyone thinking like that should back out now; I don’t want you on my team.” She levels her glare at Mihashi once more. “Is that clear?”

He’s scared to say yes to this insane mission, but he’s even more scared of what this woman might do to him if he says no. Swallowing heavily, Mihashi slowly nods his head.

“Wonderful! Now that’s settled, let’s go kill Haruna the Deathless.”

* * *

As the party forms up, Mihashi searches fruitlessly for Tajima; he, at least, doesn’t seem utterly terrifying. Not like the tall armoured man, Hanai, who shoots him a contemptuous glare when Mihashi wanders close.

When he catches sight of Tajima, he’s running ahead alongside Izumi, the bowman. Already, Izumi melts into the gloom beneath the trees, seeming to become a shadow himself, but as though he felt Mihashi’s eyes, Tajima turns back and looks at him. He shoots Mihashi a grin and a thumbs-up, then disappears into the darkness as well.

Mihashi tugs at his ammo pouch, then reaches in to roll the good luck stone in his hand. Most of the group has filed out following Momoe, leaving Abe very obviously waiting to take up the rear. He catches one of Mihashi’s furtive glances and glares at him.

“Ah, excuse me, Mihashi, is it?”

Robotically, Mihashi nods. Grass--no, Sakaeguchi falls in beside him, nudging his shoulder to start him walking. “It’s a little scary, isn’t it?” Mihashi startles, blushing, before he realises Sakaeguchi isn’t talking about Abe. “Here.” Apparently oblivious to Mihashi’s fussing, he raises his hand, fingers pinched together. A spray of spear-shaped leaves unfurls from it, smelling tasty and herbal. “Basil, for good luck.”

Mihashi stares at the offering for longer than he should before snatching it from Sakaeguchi’s fingers. “Thank…thank you.”  _ A second one!  _ He starts to put it with the stone, but it would seem rude to let it get crushed like that. Mihashi glances back and forth, flapping his hands as he tries to think.

“Oh! Hm.” Sakaeguchi takes the sprig back, then tucks it through a buttonhole on Mihashi’s coat lapel; Mihashi watches in wonder as more tiny creeping vines secure it in place. “There! It’s…you don’t have to keep it, but it’s out of the way, at least…”

“I’ll! I’ll keep it!” Mihashi gasps. Sakaeguchi smiles at him warmly, then turns, gesturing for them to walk.

_ What a kind person. _

He’s painfully aware of the footsteps behind them, but Sakaeguchi offers some buffer. Even if some part of him thrills at the idea of walking alone with Abe.

Sakaeguchi, however, does save him the trouble of thinking of conversational topics. He peppers him with questions about his family and other jobs he’s been on, whether he knows anyone else here. Sakaeguchi knows a couple of them; he and Suyama have crossed paths dozens of times, plying their healing arts wherever there was trouble. Izumi, he’s worked with on occasion, because everyone expects him to know his way around woods like the back of his hand, but he couldn’t find north if it sat on him. And anyway, he doesn’t know about trees really, just what flowers will soothe a fever or help a broken limb mend.

“Oh, and I even met Abe a couple of times! Isn’t that right, Abe?”

From behind them, Abe hums something like agreement.

“My family--we’ve run a herbalist’s shop in the capital for ages. My sister’s in charge now, with…with everything.” A tiny crease appears in Sakaeguchi’s forehead for a moment. “Usually, I’m away collecting supplies and all, but when I’m home I help out. Abe used to come in sometimes to get ingredients, though I don’t think we ever really talked much…”

Sakaeguchi seems to expect Abe to interject, but when he receives only silence, he shrugs and moves on.

Mihashi holds out as long as he can, but finally gives in and throws a glance over his shoulder at Abe. Abe’s scanning the trees to either side, but Mihashi still has the sense that he’s listening in.  _ Maybe he doesn’t know the group well yet either? _

By the time they stop for lunch, Mihashi’s stomach is growling. He stumbles a little as they edge down into a gully, but a hand catches him before he can fall.

“Hungry?”

Mihashi peeks back at Abe, nodding so energetically that his chin bonks against his shoulder.

Frowning, Abe tightens his grip on Mihashi’s arm for a second before releasing him. “Not much to you, huh?” He shakes his head, crossing his arms. “If you need to stop for food or a rest, you have to tell someone. Can’t have you collapsing on us.”

“I! I’m fine!” Mihashi stands straighter, as if to reinforce his point. Abe looks unconvinced, one corner of his mouth tugging down.

“Mi-ha-shi!”

Mihashi scrambles down the bank towards Tajima, who’s beckoning him enthusiastically.

He spends the quick meal watching the others with wide eyes, drinking them in. Everyone seems so capable and knowledgeable, seems to know what they should be doing at all times. He catches more than one person giving him a scornful look. No surprise, they must be wondering what a nobody like him is even doing here.

Mihashi hunches down over his meal.  _ I shouldn’t have said anything before. Or maybe I should’ve just left. Momoe’s right, if I’m not strong enough, I shouldn’t be here. _ His eyes flick up to her; done eating, she’s chatting with Shinooka, turning a shelled chestnut over in her hands. As Mihashi watches, she looks up, meeting his eyes steadily. Mihashi looks away, shrinking into Tajima’s shadow as best he can.

They’re resettling packs when Momoe calls out, “Mihashi! Pull!” Hauling back, she uses the haft of her axe to send the chestnut sailing high into the air.

He wastes half a second marvelling at how strong she must be to swing that axe like it’s a child’s toy. Then his eyes widen and his fingers automatically free his smaller sling, finding the hook and knot without looking. Loading a stone, in one smooth motion he hurls it at the target, neatly intercepting it just as it tops its arc.

There’s a moment of stunned silence. Then Tajima cheers. The others follow with a smattering of applause and startled laughter as Mihashi’s ears burn.

Momoe’s hand falls on his shoulder, grip like a vise. “Each one of you has something they can do that no one else here can. Mihashi, here, is maybe the only person who could catch us that bird, but that means nothing if he never reaches Buyan. Come tomorrow night, we’ll have left the lands populated by our folk and be heading into the wilds; we don’t know exactly what we’ll find there, but we do know it’ll be difficult and dangerous. This isn’t about one person being the hero, this is about us working together like one of Shinooka’s machines, so we can put  _ this _ little cog,” she pats Mihashi’s shoulder, “exactly where he needs to be to do what needs to be done.”

Heat starts somewhere deep in his chest and climbs up from under his collar until he feels like his face must be glowing. Ten pairs of eyes level at him, determination plain on their faces.

Momoe gives him a shake. “Who’s ready to bring Mihashi to the heart?”

“I am!”

Everyone flinches at the loud assertion, a few shooting startled looks at Abe. Mihashi feels as though his face must catch fire as the seconds tick by, until finally, the party breaks into a chorus of more reserved agreement.

* * *

The rest of the day’s trek follows uneventfully. Mihashi listens more than he speaks, but he’s not uncomfortable just letting conversation flow around him. What does make him uncomfortable is the prickle on the back of his neck like someone’s watching him. He considers alerting someone that they’re being watched, but he’s pretty sure he knows the source.

_ Did I do something wrong? …It seems like he knows Haruna, did he want to be the one to destroy the heart? Should I ask, or would that make him more mad? _

Mizutani asks him a question for the second time and Mihashi shakes his head, trying to focus.

They make camp next to the same stream they’d met at lunch, now a thinner streak of darkness winding between the foothills. The party sets about pitching tents and kindling a fire with well-oiled efficiency that leaves Mihashi standing in the midst of them, looking to and fro, unsure what to do.

Someone clears their throat behind him. Mihashi turns to find Shinooka tilting her head with a smile. “Would you like to help make supper?” Relieved, Mihashi nods.

Suyama directs them to peel potatoes as he fishes out other ingredients. Mihashi’s mouth waters; most of the groups he’s run with have been pretty simple in their rations, and based on lunch, he’d expected more of the same from this group. Not that he’s complaining about past meals; stale bread and cheese fills a belly just fine. But Suyama unpacks what seems like an entire kitchen, and Mihashi’s eyes light up at the prospect of a hot meal.

“Watch your fingers.”

Mihashi squeaks, nearly dropping both potato and paring knife; behind him, Abe makes a choked noise.

“He’s doing just fine,” Shinooka says, still working away with a small handled tool.

“Yeah, but if we’re depending on his ability to throw--”

“How about we trade, then?” Shinooka holds out the small tool she’d been using. “My peeler’s perfectly safe.” Mihashi stares at her hand for half a second, holds out his half-peeled potato, blinks at it, then tucks it on his lap and trades the tool for his knife.

“Mm, that should be fine. Mihashi, come and talk to me later.” Before Mihashi can do more than tense, Abe moves away.

Shinooka patiently explains how to use her peculiar blade. It has five sides, and Mihashi can only guess what most of them do. At one point, he accidentally hits some catch or button, and a small blade shoots out of nowhere and buries itself in his potato. Shinooka laughs into her hand, but somehow, it’s not an unkind sound, and she helps him fit the blade back where it belongs.

_ Wow… _ After a few minutes spent in silence, Mihashi musters his courage.

“This… Did you…it’s yours?”

Shinooka gives him a questioning look, and Mihashi immediately regrets speaking up. But after a beat, she gives a hum of understanding. “Yeah, I made it up myself! I guess you could say that’s  _ my _ specialty, making things.” She gestures to a pair of elaborate glasses hanging at her hip and a tidy leather case with a carpenter’s square sticking out of it like a holstered weapon. And beside those, what is  _ definitely _ a holstered weapon. “I’ve always been good with my hands, and mathematics and all that. Big or small, if it needs engineering, I’ve got us covered, and I’ve got more than a few helpful little tricks up my sleeve.”

She smiles shyly, and Mihashi can’t help but return it.

“Although…I’m actually here for research.” Shinooka leans her elbows on her knees. “I’ve admired Momoe for a long while, and the past few years, I’ve been working with her, learning from her. It’s easy to improve the lives of people in a village, you know? But finding ways to help tough adventurers like her…it just seems more exciting, doesn’t it?”

Mihashi nods in agreement, though he doesn’t entirely get it. “She’s… Momoe is…amazing!”

Shinooka breaks into a broader smile. “You haven’t even truly seen her in action yet! Just you wait.” She holds up the paring knife, letting the firelight glide and dance along the small blade. “She meets the most interesting people, too. Everyone here… I’ve had in my mind for a while, incorporating magic or alchemy into the crafting of items. My mentor, Shiga, thinks it should be possible, but since neither of us is gifted with arcane powers…”

“Those…that’s why…this morning?” Mihashi gestures towards where Nishihiro’s chuckling self-consciously as the tent he’s setting up with Mizutani falls for the third time.

“Mm-hm! And Abe, too.” Maybe it’s the growing warmth of the fire, or perhaps embarrassment at the exchange earlier, but her cheeks seem rosier than before. “Did you know he’s an alchemist?”

Mihashi shakes his head vigorously. He’s not entirely sure what he  _ had _ thought Abe did, but he’d never doubted he was good at it.

“It’s worth asking him about.” Shinooka smiles softly. “Can you imagine? I’ve heard of chemicals that burn long and bright, and in different colours. Applied to an arrow, you could send all kinds of messages at great distances! Or perhaps I could create a machine to better deliver potions without having to pass through the stomach…”

Mihashi lets her words wash over him, understanding less and less but still enjoying her quiet enthusiasm as dusk falls over them.

After dinner, Abe tries several times to catch his eye, but Mihashi somehow manages to avoid him. He cleaves to Tajima’s side, keeping his gaze fixed on his hands or on the dancing flames.

At least Tajima is more than enough to occupy his attention. He wiggles his bare toes at the edge of the fire’s heat as he spins his day spent scouting into an epic adventure of its own, all with that inviting grin plastered on his face. Occasionally, he suffers interjections from Izumi, such as that the rustling in the bushes had probably been a weasel and not a fearsome tiger or devious enemy spy, and the cliff they’d climbed wasn’t  _ that _ impressive and anyway, they could just as easily have gone around. It doesn’t stop Mihashi from hanging on every word, and Izumi seems to be enjoying the retelling, despite his protests.

“That shot earlier was something, though.” Izumi gives Mihashi an assessing once-over and a soft whistle. “I’m good with my bow, but not that good. Certainly not that quick.”

“It was pretty amazing! How’d you do it?” Without waiting for an answer, Tajima grabs one of Mihashi’s slings, giving it an experimental twirl.

“It’s just…it’s…” Mihashi frowns, tracing vague shapes in the air. His eyes flick across the fire to Nishihiro, talking softly with Suyama; it’d be nice to be able to mark the air to explain and not have to speak.

Tajima watches his hands intently, imitating Mihashi’s movements. Feeling a startled thrill, Mihashi selects another of his slings, showing how to hook his fingers securely through the loop and take hold of the knot. “It’s! So… You have to…loose enough for release? But…but you can’t…drop…and then…”

He’s conscious of Izumi watching them, perplexed, but Tajima seems to grasp the form quickly enough. “So when d’you let go? Are those special rocks? Hey, would this one wor--”

“ _ Not _ in the middle of camp.” Hanai snatches the sling and rock out of Tajima’s hands, dropping them in Mihashi’s lap.

“Fiiiiiiine, later! Hey, Hanai, can you throw one of these?”

Mihashi glances up at the other man; it’s the first time Mihashi’s seen him out of armour, and it makes him slightly less imposing. Slightly. As does the look of bewilderment on his face. “What? I, uh, we use them for hunting sometimes…”

“Whoa, cool! You as good as Mihashi?”

Hanai seems to be caught off-guard at being drawn into the conversation. “I’m…not exactly… But not like I’m crap at it!” He seems to regain some composure. “Got a fair arm on me, even if I don’t have your aim.”

Mihashi blinks up at him, wide-eyed. “That’s…that’s incredible!”

Hanai looks flustered again. “Wh-- I just told you, it’s not like I’m as good as you are!”

“But Hanai is also…on the horse? And…” Mihashi gestures as if swinging the great two-handed sword hanging at Hanai’s hip.

“I could be total crap at that, you don’t know!” Hanai rubs a hand over his face, muttering under his breath, then grumbles out, “Look…just don’t throw any goddamn rocks in camp!”

The three of them watch him stalk off, then Mihashi turns back to Tajima. “Hanai is…mad?”

“Mm? Naw, I think he’s just embarrassed. Hey,” Tajima bounces to his knees, leaning his face close to Mihashi’s, “I’m pretty cool, too, right? I can do all kindsa things too!”

Mihashi nods excitedly. “Tajima is! Also really cool!”

Izumi makes a disgusted noise, swatting Mihashi’s shoulder. “Don’t just… You don’t need to stroke his ego any.”

Mihashi nods uncertainly, and his fingers slip into his ammo pouch to squeeze the lucky rock. “But this…today…morning, Tajima was really scary…”

“Yeah?” Tajima breaks into a huge grin. “I was thinkin’ of a good line all while I was sneaking up on you.”

Mihashi presses his lips together in a tentative smile.

In the end, he does manage to dodge Abe for the rest of the evening. Everyone’s tired from the day’s march, not to mention conscious that they’ve still a long way to go, so it’s not long past dinner Mihashi finds himself curled in a blanket against Izumi’s back, watching the dying embers cast shadows on the tent wall.

_ But…what if I  _ had _ gone? _

The thought of being alone with Abe, all alone under the stars and the lattice of branches, warms him from the inside out until he drifts off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> briar challenge dont end every chapter with people pining while falling asleep


	2. Chapter 2

The second day of travel goes much like the first. They skirt around a village even smaller than Gunma was, waiting on the other side while Momoe, Hanai, and Shinooka stop in for supplies and word on the condition of the roads.

Tajima brings Mihashi along to flit through what passes for back alleys and watch for them returning--and more importantly, watch for anyone else watching the trio of strangers. But none of the townsfolk seem to pay them more than idle curiousity; it’s late in the season, and there’s too much to be done squaring things away before winter bites in earnest.

It’s a small job, he knows, but it still feels important to him, feels like the rest of the group are depending on him a little. It gives him butterflies in his stomach that have nothing to do with the threat of discovery. Tajima seems to feed off of his excitement, and somehow it turns what could have been a boring chore into another little adventure. Especially when Tajima suggests they sneak up on their companions and surprise them on the way back. Mihashi’s going to be nursing that bruise for a while.

As evening draws closer, though, a palpable unease spreads through the group. When they pass the stern-looking carved wood pillar marking the limit of human lands, stepping off the road onto the fresh trail, everyone loosens their weapons. Mihashi keeps one hand in his ammo pouch, brushing his fingers over the stone and metal.

There are spirits that live amongst humans, true, but most are benevolent, at worst mischievous or bad-tempered. Every now and then, one of the wild ones will come down from the mountains or rise up from the depths to terrorise a village like the one they’d just passed through: Mihashi’s found work many times driving just such an intruder back to where it came from. But that’s just one, worst case scenario a handful, and far from their homes and the seat of their power; it’s a whole other thing to willingly cross into their territory.

About an hour into their hike, following the trail of blazes left by the scouts, Shinooka pulls off her eyepieces and hurries over to relay something to Momoe, pointing up with a pale face. Momoe stops them, telling everyone to take cover.

Huddled under a thicker copse next to Hanai, Mihashi peers through the layers of branches. He’s starting to wonder what all the fuss was about when he hears a low growl. Hanai’s horse stomps, head bobbing in a way that makes Mihashi as nervous as the dark shadow passing overhead. Hanai grabs hold of her bridle, shushing her softly, stroking her nose until she settles.

Mihashi finally takes his eyes off her, but whatever had flown overhead is gone now. He probably didn’t want to see it anyway. A quiet ‘all clear’ comes down the line, and Mihashi starts to relax.

“Hey, uh, Mihashi…” Looking incredibly uncomfortable, Hanai holds out a slice of apple. “You wanna…give her a treat?”

Mihashi looks up at the warhorse, trying to think of anything he wants to do less. Not waiting for a response, Hanai sticks the apple piece in his hand; the horse flicks her ears at him, nostrils flaring.

“Like this, hand flat. You can give her a pat, too. If you want.”

Trembling slightly, Mihashi holds out the treat. She noses at his hand, then exhales with a wet _whuff_ of air, then delicately takes the treat. Mihashi snatches his hand back against his chest.

“What… Her name?” The horse takes a step towards him, bumping against his hand as if hopeful for more; Mihashi does his best not to shrink back.

“Ayame.” Hanai reaches around him, patting her neck. “My mum named her, actually. Trained her, too. She’s almost more into all this,” Hanai gestures at his armour, “than I am.” He smiles faintly, then claps Mihashi on the shoulder. “Right, we’re moving again. Let’s get going.”

Everyone keeps a watchful eye on the skies, but no ravenous beasts ambush them before dusk. As they set up camp on what level ground they can find, there’s a return to last night’s air of camaraderie.

Mihashi didn’t expect another hot meal now they’re in hostile territory, but to his surprise, Mizutani coaxes some kindling into flame. Sakaeguchi hovers over him, a worried crease between his brows as he murmurs something rapid, hands swirling through the thin trails of smoke. Like threads on a loom, wisps become steady lines, criss-crossing in an intricate pattern. With a soft exclamation, Sakaeguchi casts his creation into the sky above them, where it stops a few meters up and begins to spread in a dome shape.

“You ever seen something like that before?”

Mihashi stops gaping and glances back at Mizutani. “No! I’ve never… That was…” He looks at Sakaeguchi, who’s wiping soot off his brow with a slightly dazed smile. “Amazing!”

Startled, Sakaeguchi flushes. “I…I mean, it’s not nothing, but plenty of people can do that…”

“He’s being modest.” Mizutani claps Sakaeguchi on the shoulder. “I’ve seen this guy do some wild stuff before!”

“Wh-- It’s not wild, it’s just nature!”

Mizutani snorts out a laugh, nudging Mihashi, who glances at him, flinching back. But… _He’s laughing_ with _me. Sakaeguchi’s laughing, too._ Feeling bold, Mihashi smiles back, forming a question.

“Then… What…does…Mizutani do well?”

Mizutani chokes.

Feeling uncertain again, Mihashi looks back and forth between them. Now Sakaeguchi looks like he has the upper hand again, leaning in with his fists on his hips. “Yeah, Mizutani, what _do_ you do well?”

Mizutani gives them a nervous smile. “Uh… I just… I use magic, kind of like Nishihiro, but…not.” He holds his cupped palm out, and purple-black flames flare up. Mihashi gasps, delighted, and Mizutani relaxes fractionally.

“And how did you _get_ said powers,” Sakaeguchi prods further, seeming to enjoy himself now that the tables have turned.

“Look, I was just a kid, okay? I had no idea what I was doing!” Mizutani covers his face with his hands.

“Which is exactly the point, right?” Sakaeguchi arches his brows.

Mihashi looks from one to the other, trying to put the pieces together.

Mizutani grumbles into his hands, then drags them down to side-eye Mihashi. “Look, so I found this book as a kid, and it had all these instructions for summoning different things. I thought it was neat, I thought, ‘why don’t I give it a shot? Nothing’ll happen, right?’”

Even Mihashi knows how stupid that sounds. “That…so you…?”

“It gets worse.” Mizutani drops one hand to the stock of a crossbow at his hip. “It didn’t work right. Or maybe it did. But just as it seemed like I was getting somewhere good, in barges my stupid sister--”

The crossbow gives a decisive _kch-clack_. Mizutani yelps as a bolt whiffs through the back of his hair, lodging itself somewhere in the boughs above. Several people look over, hands reaching for their own weapons.

“An accident!” Sakaeguchi waves apologetically.

Mihashi glances around; his eyes seem to unerringly find a pair of grey ones. Focused on him. Feeling a nervous curl in his stomach, Mihashi darts his eyes away, shuffling over to hide behind Mizutani as much as he can.

Mizutani sighs heavily. “My _lovely,_ wonderful, graceful, ever-suffering sister walked in on me, and things…” He shakes his head. “I don’t really know what exactly happened, but…somehow…she ended up…in here.” He pats the crossbow again.

Taking a step back, Mihashi eyes it suspiciously. It doesn’t _look_ haunted. “So she’s…”

“We actually don’t really know.” Mizutani gives a wry grimace. “Only thing I know for sure is, now we can do weird stuff and, even though I’ve been _trying_ to find a way to fix it, she’s been pissed at me for over a decade.”

“And rightly so!” Sakaeguchi interjects.

“Look, not all of us have fancy magic families who’re all perfect and talk about this stuff and never make mistakes!” Seeing Sakaeguchi’s expression, Mizutani blanches. “Sorry…”

Mihashi glances between them, not quite understanding. Before he can ask, Sakaeguchi turns to him. “Oh, by the way, Mihashi, it seems like you don’t have much experience with magic-users.”

It takes him a moment to process that it’s a question, longer to get past the worry that Sakaeguchi’s annoyed by his ignorance. “I’ve known…some. Not…many. And they weren’t…” He frowns, tapping his hands together. “They didn’t…” He points up at the thickening dome above. “If it…not safe? They wouldn’t… They’d just, for themselves, so…”

The silence hangs between them again before Sakaeguchi starts, “Ah…you worked with people who were more independent? Is that what you mean?”

Mihashi nods energetically. That’s not quite it, but he’s eager to move on.

Mizutani rubs the back of his neck. “Are you worried, then?” Mihashi shoots him a confused look, so Mizutani continues, “If you’re used to all just kinda…doing your own thing, is it weird working in a big group like this? Especially since it could still all come down to you at the end.” He gives a shiver. “I’d feel pretty scared, if it were me.”

Mihashi stares blankly into the fire; he hadn’t really thought of it that way before.

“Don’t frighten him worse!” Sakaeguchi _tsks_ at Mizutani, then takes Mihashi’s hands. “Mihashi, I’m sure you’ll do fine.”

“Speaking of which, can I talk to you? Now?”

Abe’s sudden interruption runs a shock up Mihashi’s spine. He freezes in place, as if that would hide him from notice.

“Oh, hi, Abe.” Sakaeguchi glances between them a few times; Mihashi can’t help noticing Mizutani’s already slipped off to the other side of the campsite. With an encouraging smile, Sakaeguchi grabs Mihashi’s shoulders and turns him to face Abe, giving him a little push. “He’s all yours!”

Mihashi follows Abe to the edge of camp, eyes fixed on the mossy ground. Abe drops onto a small rock outcropping, and Mihashi settles on the ground in front of him, hands planted between his knees. At the edge of his vision, he can see Abe giving him a narrow-eyed look, and he tenses. But Abe just sighs.

“Why’d you avoid me last night?”

“Heh?” Of all the terrifying scenarios Mihashi had been running through in the past minute, he hadn’t expected Abe to just…be blunt about it.

“It’s not like there’s so many of us that you couldn’t find me. So, why?”

His mind races, heat rising in his cheeks, and he twists the hem of his tunic in his lap. “I…that was…because…when… I don’t…know??”

He risks a glance up when Abe doesn’t immediately respond. Abe’s squinting at him with his mouth open as if at a loss for words. Mihashi hurriedly looks back at his hands.

“You don’t know.” Abe grits out a sigh, clapping a hand over his face. “Mihashi… This, what we’re doing, is too important for any of us to be rushing in half-cocked like that. If you’re not going to take this seriously, then tomorrow morning, you might as well head back down this mountain and go back to your little dirt corner of nothing.”

“Go back?” Mihashi squeaks, barely making a sound.

“What?” Abe looms over him, and Mihashi shrinks away. Grating out another frustrated noise, Abe swipes a dismissive hand through the air. “I don’t like working with people who won’t listen. And if you can’t follow a simple direction like ‘come talk to me,’ then how am I supposed to feel confident you’ll come through when things get tough?”

Mihashi flinches, turning his face away, wishing he could hide. Anger radiates off Abe, hotter than the campfire. Hotter than the tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. _He’s realised, finally, that I’m no good._

“How can I trust you’ll follow the plan, and not get freaked out and run away? Our lives, the lives of everyone in this--”

“I…won’t!”

His own words startle both of them. Abe sits back, crossing his arms, and Mihashi risks a quick tear-blurred peek at him before more words can tumble out. _Abe looks…not mad?_

“I won’t! Run away. I…I know it’s important!” He clutches at his shirt over his chest, finally managing to meet Abe’s eyes. “I want…to help! Everyone! I want…to follow Abe’s lead!”

For a long, heavy moment, Abe stares down at him with an unreadable expression. Then he breaks into a toothy smile that’s almost as terrifying as his angry face. He leans in, elbows resting on his knees. “Good, then. I like hearing that.” Caught in the rush of relief, Mihashi starts to stand. “Now, about what I wanted to talk to you about.”

Deflated, Mihashi flops back down. At least Abe doesn’t seem as mad anymore.

“Gimme your ammo pouch.” Abe sticks his hand out expectantly, and after staring at it for half a second, Mihashi looses the pouch from his belt and hands it over. Abe shakes out a few stones, picking out some of them to peer at in the gloom. “Does it have to be stone?” He picks the good luck rock out, tossing it in his hand with a frown.

“I…no? It can be…anything.” Mihashi sits up on his knees, peering at the rocks as if they weren’t as familiar as his own face. “Weight, though. And shape? But I do!” He holds his hands up, fingers curled, waving them slowly. “Sometimes…lead, but it… I can’t always…get it, so…easier, just… Oh! And! One time, glass, because…because for the…”

“Glass, huh?” He can feel Abe staring at him, and panic starts sinking its claws into his stomach again. But then Abe sets the pouch down on the rock beside him, sitting back and rubbing his chin. “I see. That’s why you’ve got the dividers in here?”

Mihashi hums an affirmative, a pleasant, sparkly sensation rising in his chest. “So I can…without looking!”

“Makes sense. So, different weights or shapes are okay, so long as you know what you’re getting?” Mihashi nods vigorously. “That means I’ll have to consider the density… Show me how they sit in the sling?”

Feeling more and more back on even footing, Mihashi nods vigorously. He takes one of the stones from Abe’s hand, fitting it in the cradle of one of his slings. “Like this!”

Abe drops his handful of rocks beside the pouch and takes Mihashi’s offering gingerly, examining the sling itself as well. “I see. And when it flies?”

“Like…this!” Mihashi traces his hands through the air, hoping Abe will understand. “But…for bigger ones, like this,” he gestures again, “and the ones that are shaped, like this… Or! You can do a bunch at once, so they go out like this…”

“Hmm…” Abe hands the sling back to him. “I’ve got an idea: if we could fill some small containers with a potion that would burst on impact… We can’t exactly get glass out here, and I assume yours aren’t hollow, but…” Abe makes an irritated sound, making Mihashi flinch. “Damn, I wish we’d had more time to work together before setting out.”

Relaxing fractionally, Mihashi examines Abe’s face, fingers sliding over the tight braid of the sling. “Abe…thinks… Hitting it’s not enough?” He’s doing his best to focus even though he’s reeling at the thought of Abe wanting to spend more time with him, even if it’s just for the sake of their goal.

Abe hums yes. “I know that bastard, and I don’t think it’ll be as simple as just killing it. I don’t even know if we’re talking about regular animals, or something much worse. I only saw the notes for a moment.” Giving his head a shake, Abe rubs at his neck, then stares into the darkness. “We need failsafes, in case something like this doesn’t cut it. I’ve got potions that could paralyze a creature on contact, or coat them in something sticky; I’d planned to lay traps, and I was asking Shinooka what she’s got as far as delivery systems, but if we can keep it simple _and_ deliver it directly, that’d be way better.”

Heart fluttering, Mihashi nods along. _Abe is…glad he can use me!_

“Oh,” Abe catches his eye, “but if it comes down to it, just hit the bird with what you’re got, no matter what. Haruna already knows something’s up, he’s going to figure out what we’re doing sooner or later. We might not have second chances.”

Mihashi bites his lip. “I’ll…do what Abe says.” He glances back up, catching a satisfied look. “Abe…knows…that wizard?”

It’s Abe’s turn to flinch back, surprise written plain on his face. His brows pull together stormily, and Mihashi instantly regrets the question. Abe takes long enough that Mihashi’s sure he’s not going to answer after all, and he’s trying to form an apology when Abe exhales slowly. “Yeah, you could say that. I studied under him for some time.” Absently, he rubs at his left shoulder again, something like pain crossing his face.

Abruptly, Abe stands, dusting off the seat of his coat. “Anyway, I was thinking clay for the containers. We don’t have a kiln or the time to fire it properly, but we just need it hard enough to shatter. You think Izumi knows where we could find some clay?”

“M…maybe!”

Abe stoops to help him gather his ammunition back up, then plucks up the lucky stone. “You mind if I borrow one of these, for reference?”

Mihashi’s eyes widen. _Abe’s serious about this!_ “N--Yes, but…not…that one…it’s…special.” He takes it back from Abe and hands him another, feeling another surge of that wonderful tingly feeling as their fingers brush.

“Hmm. I guess it is a little bigger than most of them, huh?” Abe holds the stone Mihashi gave him up, then sticks it in his pocket. “C’mon, let’s see if there’s dinner yet.”

* * *

Mihashi sleeps fitfully. The ground here is harder, the smoke seeps down from Sakaeguchi’s dome, and in the distance, thunder grumbles now and then. He’s not the only one rubbing his eyes in the morning, and everyone huddles around the embers in silence as they chew their breakfast, an early morning mist dampening their clothes and hair.

The ground slopes enough now that no one has much energy for talking. Hanai even dismounts Ayame, leading her carefully over uneven ground. By midmorning, they’re seeing snow patches in the shade, the trees falling away and leaving their scouts with little cover. Izumi waits for them under one of the last pines; the shadows seem to cling to him oddly, and for half a second, Mihashi could swear he walked on four legs instead of two.

“Tajima’s gone ahead, he’s better at staying hidden than me.” He falls in beside Momoe, continuing his report. “We caught a strange scent coming down the mountain, I think we should be careful.”

Momoe dips her chin, glaring at the mountain as if it were intentionally causing trouble. “This route should’ve been safe… Nishihiro?” Caught off guard, Nishihiro hesitates for a second before hurrying to her side. “Can you hide us, if necessary?”

“I think so. I’ll be ready.”

Mihashi tries to watch as Nishihiro pulls a scrap of paper from his pocket, drawing shaky sigils on it and muttering under his breath. But soon enough he has to give his full attention to the path in front of him, as they climb a steep gully.

A pebble clatters from overhead, and Momoe holds a fist up; as if she’d pulled a thread taut, they all freeze, scanning ahead with wide eyes. After a second, though, a freckled face appears from behind a boulder. Tajima holds a finger over his lips, beckoning.

The group huddles against the rock wall while Tajima and Momoe crouch down to confer. Mihashi can’t catch all of the whispered conversation, but he does hear the words ‘cave,’ and ‘scales.’ He clutches at his tunic over his chest, feeling panic well up. Surely, they’ll turn back. But the order comes to continue.

They move at a snail’s pace, placing each step with care. Mihashi’s so focused on not making a sound, he doesn’t notice the crack in the rock until they’re almost level with it. He freezes, slapping a hand over his mouth.

Behind him, Suyama breathes out a quiet noise. Mihashi can’t bring himself to look back and see if he’s frozen by the sight in front of them too.

Darkness clings unnaturally to the cave, and he can’t tell how far back it goes, much less the true size of the creature snaking out of its opening. Just outside, gleaming red scales knot and fold in a gleaming pool on sun-warmed rock, shifting slightly with the creature’s breath. And pillowed on iron-grey claws, are not one but three fearsome heads, each more than big enough to take Mihashi’s head whole, each with a thin trail of smoke rising from flaring nostrils.

Suyama grabs his elbow, and Mihashi feels a strange surge of warmth flow from him, calming his fear somewhat. Giving him a last encouraging shove, Suyama releases him, clearly expecting Mihashi to get moving again. Which he does, hardly daring to breathe. He feels like if he so much as blinks too hard, he might give them away.

He catches sight of Tajima at the start of another crevice, beckoning them on with his eyes trained on the zmei. Mihashi isn’t sure if the monster could fit through the opening after them, but Tajima’s presence seems like a beacon of hope nonetheless. Or perhaps it’s the lingering effect of whatever Suyama did to him.

_If I can just get to Tajima, if I can just get to Tajima, if I can just--I’m almost to Tajima, I’m almost to Tajima, I’m--_

Rocks shift behind him. Mihashi freezes, eyes widening. And then his insides turn to ice as a horse’s whinny breaks the silence.

Things happen very fast. Down the line, Nishihiro casts the slip of paper he’s been clutching into the air, and it glows brightly for a fraction of a second, expanding to cover everyone with what looks like a thin yellowish film. Two of the zmei’s heads shoot up, trained unerringly on the source of the noise, while the third rises more groggily, looking almost right at Mihashi. And down the line, just emerging onto the flat slab leading to the cave, is Hanai trying desperately to quiet Ayame with touch alone.

Mihashi flicks his eyes from the zmei back to Hanai, frantic with helplessness. Slowly, the great beast unknots itself, rising up taller than two people end-to-end. And Mihashi still can’t see all of it. He searches for Abe along the line, only to feel a new stab of panic when he realises he’s right next to Hanai. Abe looks scared, too, and more than anything else, that douses Mihashi in hopelessness.

The zmei approaches Hanai, heads weaving and tongues tasting the air. It casts around, clearly unable to see through whatever illusion Nishihiro had covered them with. Seeming confused, it draws up again. Hanai seems like he might calm the horse, and Mihashi’s heart leaps, his eyes flicking to Tajima at the mouth of the crevice.

Ayame snorts. Then gives another frantic whinny. Mihashi whips back around in time to see her launch away from the wall.

Hanai doesn’t let go of its bridle until Abe grabs him and yanks him back, hand over his mouth. Mihashi can’t look at Hanai’s face, he can’t look at the monster, he can’t look at the panicked horse dodging scattered boulders and the zmei’s reach in a desperate bid for freedom.

There’s a sickening crunch, and a scream that will haunt his nightmares Then a split second of silence. Then the sounds of the zmei enjoying its meal.

He feels sick, he feels paralyzed, but Suyama gives him another shove and Mihashi somehow forces his legs to move.

_Get to Tajima, get to Tajima, Tajima, Tajima, Tajima…_

Hands grip his forearms solidly, pulling him into the shadows, pushing him down the path. Mihashi hunches over, exhaling for the first time in what feels like hours.

He risks one glance over his shoulder before a bend in the tunnel hides him. He catches sight of Oki, who is weeping silently even as he picks his way into the crevice, and then behind him…

Gore drips from the zmei’s mouths. Once again, three pairs of eyes search the rock face, tongues flicking out over and over. Hanai and Abe are plastered frozen against the rocks, and behind them, Sakaeguchi visibly shakes, one hand clutched over his stomach. He’s whispering something, eyes squeezed tight as he moves his free hand in a practiced sweeping motion. All at once, Mihashi feels a warm breeze rush up from below, crowding in the tunnel and stinking like a slaughterhouse.

The zmei rears back, peering down the mountain curiously. Suyama pushes him, less gently this time. “Would you _go_ ,” he breathes, and Mihashi does.

They don’t stop moving until they reach the safety of the timberline on the other side. As one, they collapse in the shadow of a ravine, everyone breathing heavy as though they’d run the whole way. As soon as he can lift his head, Mihashi scans the group for Hanai. He’s sat on the ground, hands covering his face and shoulders slumped. Beside him, looking as ill as Mihashi feels, Sakaeguchi reaches tentatively for his shoulder, then withdraws his hand.

“You okay?”

Mihashi flinches, turning to find Abe on one knee next to him. He opens his mouth, but can’t summon a reply, just stares back at Abe.

Hands cup his own, lifting them up; only then does Mihashi notice he’s dug his nails into his palms hard enough to leave marks.

Abe _tsks_ , running a thumb over the red crescents. “Can you throw like this? Suyama, can you--”

“Can it wait?” Suyama snaps, casting a glare Abe’s way before looking back at Hanai. There’s a soft glow coming from his hands that makes Mihashi think of the spreading warmth from before, but Hanai brushes him aside.

Abe grits out an irritated sound, making Mihashi tense until he processes it’s not directed at him. His hands are still cradled in Abe’s, bringing a different sort of warmth, especially when Abe brushes his own calloused fingers over Mihashi’s palms once more. He seems lost in thought, lips parted slightly as he examines the marks and a few other old scratches.

Suddenly, Abe shakes himself. “We’ll make sure he checks these out before we sleep tonight, don’t let me forge--”

“You fucking _idiot_.”

Both of them look back towards Hanai, and Abe drops Mihashi’s hands.

“I _told_ you the horse was gonna cause problems. What business did you have, taking that poor animal up a goddamn mountain?” Izumi looms over Hanai, face flushed with anger. “You could’ve got us all killed.” Sakaeguchi takes half a step towards him, hands raised placatingly, but Izumi shoots him a quelling glare. “And all just so you can sit up above us all, like a Grand Lord. _She_ didn’t have any--”

“Shut _up_ , Izumi,” Hanai croaks. Though he’s still slumped with defeat, his own face shows the blotchy red of anger and his teeth are visibly clenched.

Momoe interposes herself between them. “Knock it off. What’s done is done. Mistakes were made, but ultimately, responsibility rests on me for setting all this into motion. If you want to be angry at someone, be angry at me.”

“Or _him._ ” Hanai lifts a surprisingly steady arm to point at Abe. When Izumi starts to turn, Momoe stops him with a light touch.

Off in the distance, thunder grates and grumbles.

Mihashi can’t see Izumi’s face clearly, but he watches him shake his head, almost as though fighting against reins of his own. And all the while, Momoe stares him down sternly.

Just when Mihashi thinks he can’t take the tension any longer, Izumi turns on his heel and stalks down the slope. “I’ll go on ahead,” he says, not meeting anyone’s eyes before he disappears into the trees. On Mihashi’s other side, Mizutani stands, looking like he’ll follow, but Tajima stops him with a hand on his arm and a shake of his head.

Now that it’s returned, the miserable silence that had draped over them since they left the zmei’s lair seems like it might never lift. But into the stillness steps Momoe, arms crossed and expression determined.

“Lift your heads.” As if on cue, a thin beam of autumn sun finds her, bathing her in gold. “All of you knew there were dangers on this path. You knew you weren’t off on a picnic in the park. But you also know that if we succeed, it will be worth every one of our lives.”

She holds each of their eyes in turn. “Today, we mourn with Hanai for an innocent friend. But today, we _also_ celebrate that we are alive. We snuck past a phenomenally dangerous beast, we worked together as a team and kept our cool even in the face of fear and tragedy. We each did the best we could.” She stares down Hanai until, seeming to sense her gaze, he lifts his head. “Each of us. Be proud of what we did right, and carry the mistakes only as a reminder to do better next time.”

Mihashi doesn’t think he’s ever felt so many things at once. He sniffs, then hiccups. Then starts softly crying.

Abe hums a questioning noise, and Mihashi curls over to avoid his gaze. He can’t disguise his shuddering shoulders, though.

“Why the hell are _you_ crying, you--”

“Whoaaaaa, hey, how’d you get so snotty so fast? Gross!” Tajima crouches at his other side, craning ridiculously so he can peer under Mihashi’s arms. “You got like a huuuuge booger right here, it’s super nasty.”

Even though the tears still flow, Mihashi finds himself chuckling with Tajima. Beyond him, Mizutani starts laughing too, and one by one a slightly hysterical laughter takes them, finally shaking the last of the tension from the air.

* * *

Part of Mihashi wishes they could just sleep for days in that shady ravine, but Momoe urges them on, eager to put as much distance as possible between them and the mountaintop before nightfall.

At least he has Tajima’s company to buoy his spirits. Tajima keeps up a steady stream of babble, though Mihashi doesn’t miss his alertness. They see no sign of Izumi except for his familiar blazes on the trees, not until he melts out of a thicket to beckon them silently to a promising campsite.

Thunder still growls, closer now, but Mihashi sleeps as soon as his head hits his pack. His dreams are coiled and clawed and shining, but he sleeps.

Dawn seems to bring fresh spirit to all of them, though it’s hard to see much of her light through the thick canopy above. Mihashi stretches, breathing in the musty forest air, then opens his eyes, unerringly finding Abe coming out of his tent. He’s rubbing at his shoulder, rotating his arm stiffly, and a pang of worry hits Mihashi. But Abe doesn’t seem especially concerned, so he supposes he shouldn’t be either.

Tajima and Izumi take the lead once more, the rest of the party following down the mountainside. Fatigue seems to be setting in, and Sakaeguchi offers everyone a sprig of peppermint and something he doesn’t recognise to perk them up a little. Mihashi’s unsure what to do with the fragrant leaves until he sees Shinooka pop hers into her mouth. The bitter-fresh burst helps a bit, enough that he barely feels nervous when Abe jogs up beside him.

Abe holds out a small grey-brown blob. “Couldn’t sleep last night, so I whipped these up and stuck them in the fire. We should give ‘em a try when we stop for lunch.”

Mihashi takes the clay from him, hefting it experimentally, closing his eyes as he compares its shape to what his hands know. Opening his eyes, he sees Abe peering at him eagerly.

“Well? You think it’ll work?”

Mihashi starts to nod, shakes his head once, then nods again.

Abe’s giving him that annoyed squint again. “Which is it.”

Mihashi shakes his head, backing away a step.

“Well?” Abe takes a step towards him.

Mihashi bites his lip, leaning away and squeezing his eyes shut again.

Hands close on his arm, shaking him roughly. “If there’s a problem and you don’t tell me, I can’t fix it!” Someone shushes him.

Mihashi tentatively opens one eye, summoning his courage. And freezes. Just for a moment, he thought he saw a shape on a nearby tree, running up it like a squirrel. Except far larger than any squirrel he’s ever seen.

But before he can be certain he saw anything more than a shadow, it’s gone. Mihashi swallows and looks down at the container in his hand. “It’s…light? Too light.”

Abe exhales a sigh that turns into a chuckle. “It’ll be heavier when it’s full of liquid, dumbass.” He lets Mihashi go, taking the bottle back. “Part of why I want to run some tests. I want to know if we should fill it all the way, or leave some air…” Abe trails off, eyes sliding to the woods behind Mihashi.

The hairs on the back of his neck prickle. Mihashi glances behind him, hoping desperately to see nothing. “What…”

“Just a bird, or something.” Abe shakes his head. “C’mon, we’re falling behind.”

But the party are stopped not far ahead, Sakaeguchi frowning at a vine-covered tree.

“…no, I’m _sure_ it’s the same…” He prods at the vine’s leaves. “I noticed because this one’s usually died back by this time of year, _and_ it doesn’t usually climb beeches…”

“Come on, Yuuto, you know you have no sense of direction.” Suyama leans an arm on the trunk next to him, shaking his head. “Besides, look, it’s got the blaze on it. We’re fine. Sometimes trees look the same.”

“Funny, it’s got a blaze on this side, too!” Mizutani pokes his head around the side.

“What,” several voices ask at once.

After a beat, Suyama shakes himself. “No, I’m certain it’s this way. Izumi must’ve just marked this tree again in case it was hard to see. The path’s just…” He takes a few steps, then stops, mouth falling open slowly.

Mihashi peers into the woods too. It takes him a moment to see what Suyama’s seeing: the familiar hatch marks carved over and over into every tree until they disappear in the gloom.

A peal of laughter rattles the leaves, and they all look about wildly, trying to pinpoint the source. When Mihashi looks back at the trunks, suddenly they’re back to normal, only the beech and a distant evergreen showing the familiar blaze.

“Close up. On your guard.” Momoe doesn’t have to tell them twice.

They’ve only been walking for a few minutes when Shinooka stops them. “We’re climbing again.”

“The terrain’s just uneven,” Oki suggests.

“No, because look…” Shinooka points through the crowns of the trees ahead of them. Mihashi can just make out the jagged shape of the mountain he’d spent yesterday staring at over his shoulder.

“Maybe we should just stop moving? That’s what you’re supposed to do when you’re lost, isn’t it?” Sakaeguchi’s clutching his stomach again.

“I don’t think that applies here,” Abe says, calmly drawing a nasty-looking sap and a vial of sinister-looking murky liquid.

“Watch out!” Suyama calls, and Mihashi whips around just in time to see a shape running by. On the underside of the boughs. Yellow eyes glint from deeper in the forest, disappearing before Mihashi can see what they belong to.

Another startled cry from the other side, and the distinct heavy _snick_ of a crossbow firing. And the bolt burying itself in wood. Mihashi looks over to see Mizutani fumbling to reload his bow as two figures emerge from the woods. It’s…

“Don’t shoot.” Hanai pushes the crossbow down as Tajima and…a small dark grey fox step out of the shadows.

Mihashi stares at them, confused, wondering where Izumi’s gone. Tajima opens his mouth, a familiar smile playing at the corners of his mouth. But what comes out is anything but familiar, a stream of chirping yaps that seem to startle him as much as anyone. He frowns, tries again with the same result. Looking more unnerved than Mihashi would’ve believed he was capable of, Tajima turns to the fox, spreading his arms as if expecting it to speak up.

Which it does, with Tajima’s voice.

“Something’s seriously wrong.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [bianca del rio voice] tell me mizutani what do you do successfully
> 
> wanna know some funny dumb research stuff? In reading up on slings, I found out about unused lead sling bullets they found in a roman fort in britain that had holes through them. there were also similar ones at a site in Greece, those ones made of clay. some of the archaeologists initially thought they might've been used to deliver poison, but later rejected the idea (because it's fucking stupid, slings are a bludgeoning weapon and also the bullets are about the size of the top joint of your thumb; it'd have to be one hell of a poison) Instead, they settled on the theory that they were used to produce a whistling sound which might have unnerved enemy combatants. However, since they have as yet not found expended sling bullets of this type, who can say if these were actually used.
> 
> Anyway, my point is, Abe's idea probably wouldn't work actually (though we're talking splash effect, not internal) but fuck it, it's fantasy.
> 
> Also if anyone can identify the stupid reference behind Hanai’s horse’s (RIP;;;;;) name you win ten points and a picture of my cat


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: teeth, implied cannibalism, drowning, general witchy and monstery horribleness

“Seriously wrong… Seriously wrong!” The words echo strangely as a breeze rattles the leaves above them.

With a sinking feeling, Mihashi realises it’s not an echo: dark shapes are swarming the canopy, snickering and repeating the words like some private joke.

The party bunches up, back to back, Ai-chan winding amongst their feet and growling in a way that might frighten Mihashi if there weren’t more sinister things afoot. Nishihiro starts tracing sigils, and Sakaeguchi plucks something out of the air that looks like a ball of spider silk; everyone else readies a weapon. Mihashi glances at Momoe, hoping for some of the same stalwart confidence she’d bolstered them with yesterday. But Momoe’s knuckles are tight on the haft of her axe, and her fierce expression offers no comfort.

Mihashi faces the woods in front of him again, fear closing his throat. Shadows surge and flow over the tree trunks and the ground, and he doesn’t know where to look. They’re not too different from the fox Tajima had appeared with, but they look…wrong, somehow. The hind limbs are too long, the teeth too thin and too many. He could swear some of the tails are barbed or forked.

One shadow splits off from the seething mass, stepping closer amongst the underbrush, resolving into a more definite shape. Its eyes burn green-gold with malice and its fur is matted with moss and dirt. “What are you doing so far from home, human-folk?” it asks, mouth gaping open.

“You’re not wanted here.” Another creature stands on a trunk, head bent at an unnatural angle to peer at them.

“We know what to do with your sort,” laughs another voice.

“Yes, _we_ know what to do!”

From the corner of his eye, Mihashi sees Momoe take a deep breath before lowering her axe. “Leshii, we will happily leave your forest if you will show us the path. We mean you no harm.”

“Oh?” This provokes another rippling cackle from the forest. “So generous!”

A creature with all its limbs bent backwards scuttles out of the undergrowth to stare at her. “Humankind are so considerate! But you have already done harm.”

“Already!”

On the tree trunks all around them, the blazes have reappeared, this time weeping sap.

“And everyone knows, where even one of the human-folk comes, others follow.”

“Yes, yes!”

“More harm.”

“Follow!”

“We are simply passing through. Our destination lies elsewhere, we did not mean to disturb your forest.” Momoe’s voice is admirably level. “We’ll find another route back, and warn others not to travel this way.”

Sakaeguchi clears his throat. “I could… If there’s damage, I could heal it…?”

“Too late, too late!”

One creature spits, “Insolent, to think we cannot take care of our own.”

“I wasn’t--”

Another snickering voice cuts Sakaeguchi off. “We think you should have a new destination!”

“Yes, yes, we have the perfect one!”

“Just follow the path, and He’ll take good care of you!”

“Yes, He will!”

The cackling grows louder and louder, the dark shapes running around and around them until Mihashi has to shut his eyes against the dizzying rush. Someone cries out in fear or maybe pain, and another gasps.

And then, between one second and the next, silence falls.

Slowly, the normal sounds of the woods fade in, but they sound somehow hollow, as if it were a chorus of wind-up birds hidden just out of sight.

The trees seem to crowd closer than ever, except in one conspicuous direction where sunlight dapples the ground along a clear path. Everyone looks to Momoe. She squares her shoulders, mouth set resolutely. “Well…looks like our only way is forward.”

“Unless we want to hack our way through the entire wood,” Hanai says, though it doesn’t seem like a serious suggestion.

Momoe beckons. “Tajima, Izumi, stay close this time. Assuming they’d let you get ahead of us.”

_ Izumi? _

As if he’d been there all along, Izumi nods solemnly, stringing his bow as he moves to hold their rear alongside Abe. Perhaps he’d just missed him in the tension of the moment. Mihashi nods to himself, and finds a place next to Tajima.

_ Who knows if my rocks would do anything to them, anyway. _ He reaches into his pouch, rolling the lucky stone in his fingers, squeezing it tight. It feels faintly warm to his touch, bolstering his courage just a little.

Another grating roll of thunder rattles the canopy. It seems to go on forever, and Mihashi can practically feel it in his teeth. The others look just as uncomfortable. But bad weather seems the least of their worries right now.

The longer they walk, the taller the woods around them loom, dark and impenetrable. Mihashi takes some comfort in the idyllic path ahead of them, but he’s not so stupid he doesn’t know they’re being forced into a trap. He snatches a look over his shoulder at Abe, wondering if he has any better of an idea what they’re walking towards.

Suddenly, he catches a whiff of…something sweet? Mihashi perks up; Suyama’s stews might be delicious, but they’re not cake. Tajima nudges him in the ribs, eyes lighting up as he overtly sniffs the air. Mihashi can’t help but return his smile, eyes sliding beyond the path ahead.

Before them opens a clearing, and in the center of it stands an inviting little cottage with its back to them. Sunlight bathes a small verdant kitchen garden hung with pale clacking chimes, and gleams off the polished wood of an elegantly-carved well. There are even butterflies glinting in the light, flitting amongst the wildflowers and long grasses that crowd around the base of the hut.

With an immense creaking and groaning, the hut rises up in the air, suspended on one immense, spindly chicken leg. It hops, rotating the whole house, then digs its claws into what Mihashi now sees is a huge nest, before finally settling back down as if nothing had happened.

“Fuck,” someone says.

Momoe motions for them to spread out, ready, as the house makes one more turn and reveals the front stoop. Lounging on the steps as though the building hasn’t moved at all is a lanky young man with tousled blond hair and hazel-green eyes fixed on them in a bored expression.

The seconds stretch into minutes, the man still leaning his chin on one fist and watching them with disinterest. Until the house rises up again and he gives the planks beneath him a swat.

“Knock it off! Can’t you see we’ve got company?” As the house settles again, he reluctantly sways upright, eyes searching the party. “Well? You gonna say hello, or just stare? I was busy.”

“Good morning.” Momoe steps forward, axe held at her side. “Sorry for the intrusion, we were on our way through your beautiful forest when some spirits led us astray. We’ll happily be on our--”

The man laughs, a strangely dissonant noise that reminds Mihashi of the thunder. “Led astray? I think you’re exactly where you ought to be, humans.” He bares his teeth in a threatening smile. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had a proper meal.”

It’s about then that Mihashi notices Tajima sauntering fearlessly into the small garden. He squats down, examining something, then turns back with a beckoning wave. “Oi! Mihashi! These’re  _ teeth! _ Gross!”

Mihashi freezes clutching his tunic, eyes flicking from Tajima, to the man on the steps, back to Tajima, to the well he’d assumed was built from strangely-sized planks of a beautiful ivory wood, and back to the stranger. The man watches Tajima with a faint bemused smile, as though sizing up an odd bug that’s intruded on his home.

Momoe edges over just enough to intercept his gaze. “…You seem a wise and well-informed sort, surely you’re aware of the sorcerer whose lands border your own?”

For the first time, the witch sits up straight and regards them with real interest. “What d’you have to do with that piece of shit?”

Mihashi tries to tell if Momoe’s surprised from what little he can see of her face.

Hanai steps up just behind Momoe. “We’re no friends of his, if that’s what you’re--”

“He sucks.” Tajima walks up, holding one of the chimes. “Did you make these? They’re cool!”

The stranger gives him another curious look. Quick as a snake striking, he snatches the chimes out of Tajima’s hand. Without leaving the step. “That’s not yours.”

Roughly, Hanai grabs Tajima’s pack, hauling him backwards and clapping a hand over his mouth. “Sorry about this idiot.”

Momoe plants her fists on her hips. “Back to the matter at hand. You don’t like Haruna, neither do we--”

The witch narrows his eyes. “Upstart thieving little shit. Doesn’t know his place--”

“--which is why you should let us pass. We’re going to help you.”

The witch sniggers at that. “You’re going to help  _ us? _ Little creatures like you?”

Abe walks up beside Momoe, carrying Ai-chan as though nothing were amiss. “We’re going to destroy him.”

That interrupts the stranger’s laughter. His eyes narrow, sizing up their party. Mihashi takes a step behind Hanai and the still-struggling Tajima, heart thumping.

“You’re serious, aren’t you, human?” He steps off the front stoop; he’s much taller than Mihashi expected. “You braved these wilds for it, so you've gotta have a plan.”

“Like hell we’d tell you,” Hanai snorts.

Abruptly, the stranger is directly in front of Hanai, expression sullen and dangerous. “Say that again, mortal man.”

They’re close enough that Mihashi can almost feel Hanai flinch. But he squares his shoulders, lifting his chin a little. “I said, we’re not telling you our plans. How do we know you’re not in league with him? Or going to mess with our plans, just to be a bastard? But we  _ are _ gonna do it.”

“I would  _ never _ have  _ anything _ to do with that…that…” He stalks away from Hanai, shuddering as though disgusted at the mere mention of such an alliance. After a second, he peers over his shoulder at them. “But maybe…”

Before anyone can breathe, he scuttles in front of Momoe, crouching down in front of her. Except…not down, no. Even folded over like a waiting spider, he now looms alarmingly. His breath gusts over them, reeking of sweet cake but also something putrid that reminds Mihashi of the zmei’s lair. “Maybe you’re very, very lucky.”

Momoe cocks her head, otherwise not moving a muscle. “Oh?”

“See, if you’d come another way, you’d’ve met one of the other two. Not like they love Haruna, but he’s not right on  _ their _ doorsteps. They don’t hate him like me.” The witch fixes Momoe with his green eyes. “ _ They _ don’t see that he’s dangerous. They might not hurt you, but they certainly wouldn’t help you in your petty human squabbles.”

“What’s your point?”

“My point is,” the witch sends another puff of reeking air over them, “ _ I  _ want him ripped to shreds.”

“So?” Abe stands casually as though he were asking about someone’s cows. “You’ll let us pass?”

The stranger peers at him assessingly, and Mihashi wishes he were built like Hanai and could pull Abe out of his sights.

“…For a price.”

There’s a collective intake of breath. Momoe gives a single nod, rubbing her chin. “We’ve got some medical supplies and money, but not much to offer in the--”

“I don’t want that garbage.”

Something awful occurs to Mihashi and he sinks into a crouch, covering his jaws as though he might hide its contents.

The witch rises to his feet, suddenly human in height once more. He stretches with an exaggerated yawn. “It’s very hard, living out here all by myself. So much to do, and I’m so, so tired.”

The faintest note of irritation bleeds into Momoe’s tone. “O…kay, so is there a task we can perform for you?”

“I was thinking more of a loan.” The witch smirks over his shoulder. “You’ve got bodies to spare, why not leave one with me? I’ll just borrow them for a few days, work them hard, then I’ll give them back. Perfectly fair.” His gaze rolls over their group. “If I’m pleased with their work, maybe I’ll even grant them a boon. If not…well, I can always decide I’m hungry after all.”

Momoe bows her head briefly. “I can’t do that.”

In a second, the witch is upon her again, too-sharp fingers reaching for her throat. Inhumanly fast herself, Momoe draws her axe, just barely getting the haft between them.

As if he’d let her win, the witch chuckles, dropping his hands. “You say that like you have a choice. It’s either one or all--”

“I’m saying, I’ll stay.”

“You ca--” Abe starts, falling silent at her raised palm.

The witch gives her a sneering look. “No deal. No…” He makes a show of scanning the group; Mihashi fully clings to the back of Hanai’s knees. “ _ This _ one.”

In another unnatural burst of speed, his arm darts out to grab Tajima.

“Hey!”

“No!” Heart in his mouth, Mihashi tries to grasp hold of Tajima’s pants, instead planting face-down in the disconcertingly fresh-smelling grass.

“This one will do.”

“Aww, I don’t  _ wanna _ work!” For all that he’s being dangled twice his height in the air by something clearly not human, Tajima puts on a show like a sulky spoiled child.

“I can’t allow this.” Momoe’s hands haven’t left her axe.

“No one asked your permission,” the witch replies, grey-green eyes trained on his captive.

Mihashi’s fingers dig into the soft ground.  _ Someone do something! Someone…please… _

“Take me instead.”

Everyone looks at Hanai. He’s standing ramrod straight with hands curled into fists at his sides.

“I can’t accept that either.” Momoe shakes her head, face grim.

Hanai looks just as determined. “Let me do this. Izumi was right, I could’ve gotten every one of us killed back there. Let me do this, let me regain some honour.” He turns to the stranger. “Besides, you’ll get better work out of me than that scrawny little twerp.”

“Oi!” The witch now has Tajima held upside down by one leg, waving him gently like a toy, but he still manages to look outraged.

“So serious! I’m only going to make him scrub pots and tend the garden for a few days. But…I’ll happily take this one too.” He reaches out, grabbing the edge of Hanai’s breastplate and pulling him closer. “More meat on this one, anyway.”

“H-hey, that wasn’t the deal!” Hanai doesn’t struggle exactly but he seems to be pulling as far away as possible.

“It’s the deal now. Sometimes, prices go up. Too bad.” He pulls Hanai closer and closer, until they’re nose-to-nose. “Or you could always kick up a fuss and we could fight! Then I could slaughter the whole lot of you and leave your bones for the leshii to pick clean.” He releases Hanai. “But then I’d still have a pile of dirty pots. Isn’t it better like this?”

At some point, Tajima’s been set back down on the ground; Mihashi feels the slightest pang of relief. “Aww, c’mon, guys! It’s only a few days. The two of us can move fast on our own, we’ll catch right up to you before you do any of the fun stuff!” Tajima shoots a fierce grin Hanai’s way. “It’ll be fun!”

Hanai looks like he’s regretting his decision more and more by the minute. But he nods slowly in agreement.

“Good. Now, I’m getting awfully tired of all this chit-chat.” The witch turns away as if he hadn’t a care in the world, returning to the doorstep once more. He waves dismissively at Momoe. “You have my mark. Now leave.”

Mihashi looks over to see Momoe staring at a glowing orb that hadn’t been in her hand a moment before. She inhales and exhales slowly, then looks to Tajima and Hanai one last time.

“We’ll be fine,” Hanai mouths, though he doesn’t look like he believes it.

“Leave. Now.” That tooth-grating rumble grinds under his words. The witch points to the side of the clearing, and, as if it had been there all along, another idyllic forest path opens.

Hands curl on Mihashi’s collar. “You alright?” Abe plants him on his feet, craning to look at his face with a frown on his own.

“I…I’m…” Mihashi glances from their party slowly making for the path to the two they’re apparently going to leave behind, now headed up the steps.  Fingers shaking, he dips into his ammo pouch and unerringly find the lucky stone, turning it over and over.

As if feeling his gaze, Tajima looks back; catching Mihashi’s eye, he turns fully and gives Mihashi a beaming smile and a thumbs-up. Just like he had on that first day when he’d run ahead to scout, it feels like he’s saying, “ _ Back in a minute. _ ” This time it feels like a lie.

Abe tugs on his arm. “Let’s go.”

Mihashi shakes his head, breathlessly mouthing, “I can’t, I can’t, I--”

“So what, are you gonna stay?” Abe drops his arm furiously, speaking in a punchy whisper that still seems to echo in Mihashi’s head. “We  _ need _ you. You going to let us all down, just so you can do what? Get eaten too?”

Mihashi’s breath is starting to hitch softly. Tajima’s now watching them with a concerned look; behind him, Mihashi can see the witch looking on with an impatient cast to his mouth.

Abe exhales a guttural sigh. “Smile back.”

“Hw--wha?” Mihashi freezes in place.

“Smile back. He’s scared too. Moments like this, you should smile.” When he glances over, Abe’s own lips quirk up in a lopsided grin. “It cheers up your friends and pisses off your enemies, so  _ smile _ .”

Mihashi blinks at him. Then back at Tajima.  _ Tajima is…scared too.  _ He gives the lucky rock another turn, and then, shoulders climbing high, he somehow musters a smile and a thumbs up.

Beside him, Abe snorts with laughter. “Perfect.”

Only a few arm’s lengths away but seemingly on the other side of the world, Tajima snickers too. Then squares his shoulders, inhaling with an unreadable expression.

_ I could…give…  _ Mihashi tries to pull the lucky rock from his pouch, but somehow it’s lodged tight and won’t budge.

A spindly hand emerges from the gloom of the hut and wraps around Tajima’s arm, yanking him inside. The door slams shut.

* * *

While they see the occasional shadow scuttle across their path and hear a few cackles from the leshii, the witch seems as good as his word, and nothing further bars their way through the woods. No one seems especially inclined to celebrate.

The whole time, Abe keeps a firm grip on Mihashi’s arm. It’s just shy of painful, but Mihashi can’t find it in himself to object. He finds himself studying the back of Abe’s head, the crescent of face just visible, as he scrambles behind him at their punishing pace.

_ Is… Was Abe scared, too? _

Eventually, they emerge into a wild meadowland, echoing with the song of birds and the distant rush of water. The party breathes a collective sigh of relief. Mihashi perks up; maybe they’re nearing their target, maybe they can turn back soon and rescue Tajima. Abe finally releases him, and Mihashi looks over with a tremulous smile. Catching his eye midway through rotating his arm, Abe gives him a crooked smile back, then claps him on the shoulder.

The rolling landscape rises again; at least this time, the zmei’s mountain stays behind them, right where it belongs. As evening draws close, they spot a mill up ahead, windows glowing invitingly. Initially, Momoe turns them away from it, but soon they realise it’s situated on the bank of a great rushing river, and the only means of crossing in sight is a small jetty next to the groaning house.

“Strange place for a mill,” Mizutani says, voicing the thought weighing on all their minds.

Momoe climbs to the deck running in a broad L-shape around the house, and knocks at the door. After waiting a few moments, she knocks again, glancing around.

She’s about to knock a third time when a figure lumbers out from the shadows under the deck. In the dusk, they see a man wiping his hands on a filthy cloth. His eyes seem unusually round, his mouth is a little too wide, and even though he smiles and greets them cheerfully, there’s something about him that makes Mihashi shrink back.

“Sorry, sorry, I was cleaning the wheel blades. How can I help you, travelers?” He holds out a still scum-streaked hand to Nishihiro; before he can do more than stare at it, Momoe appears beside him and shakes the man's hand briskly.

“We are passing through this land on our way north,” Momoe says unhesitatingly, “meeting the herds coming down for the winter. I hear there’s good hunting.”

“Excellent hunting up that way!” His glittering eyes skim their group, leer still in place. “You need to cross the river?”

“We do. We’ve some money to pay our way…” Momoe digs in one of the side pockets of her pack, producing a small pouch.

“No, I don’t need payment like that,” he says, waving it aside. His hands make Mihashi think of the broad blade of an oar; undoubtedly helpful for a life near the water. “It’s getting late, though. Wouldn’t you rather stay the night here? It can be dangerous out here after dark.” His eyes sweep over them in a way that leaves Mihashi edging behind Oki. Which makes those eyes snap to him. Mihashi squeaks.

Momoe’s voice has that sing-song politeness again. “Oh, we couldn’t possibly intrude on your household! We’ve lasted this long, another night sleeping rough won’t hurt us any. Besides, we’ll be getting going early in the morning, and we wouldn’t want to wake you.”

“No, I insist, we’d love to have you--”

“We would just like to cross the river, thank you.”

Both of them are smiling, eyes locked. At least, in theory, one could call it smiling.

After a long moment, the man shrugs, and turns to lead them down to the dock. “Suit yourself.”

The old wood groans alarmingly under their feet, and Mihashi eyes the small flat skiff with mistrust. There’s a rotten-looking rope hanging from a post above it and stretching in a low arc across to the other side of the river, weeds or perhaps slime hanging from it, waving slowly in the spray.

The strange man makes a show of counting them. “It’ll have to be at least two trips.” With an unctuous smile that doesn’t reach his eyes, he gestures for them to board. “Ladies first.”

“I’ll make the second crossing, thanks,” Momoe says, iron creeping back into her tone. “Shinooka, you go ahead, though.”

Shinooka gives her a startled glance; watching her face, Mihashi’s certain she knows exactly how unseaworthy this glorified raft is.

“Sakaeguchi, Izumi, Nishihiro, Abe, you go along too. Keep your eyes open when you make landfall.” She holds Abe’s gaze a little longer than the others, and Mihashi can imagine the warning she’s trying to imprint on him. “Safe trip. See you on the other side.”

Cautiously, the five climb down into the ferry, settling onto plank seats. The man clambers down to the centre, digging his bare feet under some leather straps set on the boat’s bottom, and using a hook to tug the rope down within reach.

Abe half-stands. “You sure you don’t want help with that?”

The ferryman gives him a dismissive look. “I don’t need your help.”

Abe sits back down, but he, and the boat’s other occupants, looks distinctly doubtful as they pull out into the stream.

Once they’re a good distance out, Momoe says softly, “I promise I’m not being careless.” She glances over her shoulder at the remaining four. “This way, there’s a healer and a mage on either side. The rest of them are experienced and level-headed; they’ll know to hide or run if there’s trouble.”

Mihashi nods, though his eyebrows remain knotted with worry.

“Experienced? What’s she think of us, then?” Mizutani grouses; Suyama shushes him.

They keep their anxious vigil, but much to everyone’s surprise, the man seems to be trustworthy enough. He even appears to be…singing as he hauls them along; they catch snatches of a jaunty tune when the wind changes. Abe looks like it’s grating on his nerves. At last, the first five climb onto the far jetty, and the ferryman begins pulling himself back.

“Don’t let down your guard,” Momoe warns, though she waits with a welcoming smile.

When Mihashi boards the boat, he’s hit with the reek of tar and rotting vegetation. The plank he sits on is damp, almost slimy, and the craft pitches alarmingly when each person gets on. But he looks across to the far shore, to Abe standing on the other side, to all appearances live and well. And, once the ferryman starts pulling them hand-over-hand out into the current, he supposes it’s too late.

It’s almost enjoyable: the setting sun dapples the water with pink and gold, a light wind sending its own waves through the meadow grasses on either side. Mihashi starts to relax. Soon, they’ll be reunited on the shore, they can set up a camp away from this strange man, with a whole river between them and that awful forest and the witch--

Mihashi bites his lip, pressing his cheek against his shoulder.

_ Tajima... _

With a start, he realises they’ve stopped moving.

“About that payment…” the ferryman starts.

“I have money, I’ll be more than happy to pay you for your services,” Momoe says quickly, in a way that brooks no argument.

“No, no, I told you, I got no use for that.” The man’s mouth spreads in a smile, and Mihashi notices he doesn’t seem to have any teeth. Not like they’ve fallen out, but...almost like a salamander or a frog.

“What do you want.” Momoe still sits on the plank, but Mihashi can see she’s tensed and ready to fight. He tries to ready himself as well.

“Just a small thing, nothing much really. It’s just-- My husband’s such a clutz. We were crossing the river once, and he dropped his ring in the water. Now, I’m not strong enough to fight the current here,” none of them point out he’s handily holding them steady against it with one hand, “and I fear what would happen if I went diving for it. We're all alone out here, I can't risk leaving. But you folk are strong hunters. I bet you could find it in no time.”

Suyama shoots to his feet, gripping his staff, but Momoe yanks him back down. “That seems very dangerous, and we’re only simple hunters. Isn’t there anything else?”

“Hmm, you’re right, it would be dangerous.” The man rubs his chin thoughtfully, then raises his finger with a smile. Before any of them can process what he’s doing, he yanks hard on the ferry’s cable, snapping it at either end, and starts reeling in the rope. “Just hold onto this line, and you’ll be safe as houses!”

The boat doesn’t move.

Out of the corner of his eye, Mihashi can see panicked movement on the far bank. Shinooka fiddles with something that glints brightly, and Sakaeguchi falls on his knees in the shallows, shoving his hands under the water. He can’t get a better look, though, because he’s petrified with fear. The ferryman looks less and less like a man, and even if they’ve been anticipating this moment since they first laid eyes on the mill, dread spreads icy in his gut.

“I’ll go.” Oki shrugs out of his pack.

Momoe opens her mouth as if to protest.

Oki rushes on. “I’m the strongest swimmer, if anyone can do it, it’s me.” A pained look flashes across Momoe's face, and then she sets her jaw and nods. Oki starts shucking off his outerwear; Mizutani scoops it into the pack, and no one argues. Mihashi can see his knees shake, but Oki stands up straight to look the ferryman in the eye. “I’d rather someone else holds the rope, though.”

Not giving the man a choice, Momoe grabs one end of the rope, offering the other to Oki. She holds his eyes for a moment, giving his shoulder a squeeze. “Be safe.”

Oki nods, fear plain on his face as he moves to the upstream side of the boat and wraps the rope around his forearm. Not looking back, he dives into the water.

Mihashi can imagine it, the shocking cold, the current wrapping around Oki like a heavy blanket, the murky darkness pressing against his eyes. They watch, breathless, tracking the rope’s movement, relieved to see it still pulled taut.

Oki breaches the surface once, shaking his head, then dives again. Once, and Mihashi notices the ferryman is no longer on the boat. Twice, and they’re readying weapons. A third time, just as something sings through the air and buries itself in the side of the boat. Mihashi glances over to see Shinooka with an unusual crossbow in one hand and the end of a rope in the other. She starts hauling the line, looking around and crying out like she’s calling for help.

Oki doesn’t break the surface again.

Things happen very quickly after that. Mihashi’s watching the shore, and Izumi and Nishihiro coming to Shinooka’s aid. And the dark-haired figure wading out into the current, eyes wide and a name on his lips that’s whipped away by the wind. Shinooka hauls on the line, and, as if it had been waiting for any excuse, the boat falls to pieces, no longer held in place by whatever magic the ferryman commanded. He hears someone scream, and someone else yell, “Grab hold!” Sees Momoe desperately pulling on the rope in her hands, even as the water sucks her down.

He grasps for pieces of the broken boat, but they’re slimy and his hands are already going numb and the current tears them away before he can grip them.

And then a wave slams over his head, dragging him under.

Light and sound strobe in and out as Mihashi fights to grab a mouthful of air. He has just enough presence of mind to struggle out of his pack; he tries to grab onto that to help him float, but the river rips that away too. He thinks he hears his name. He thinks he hears Abe’s name. He thinks he hears so much screaming, so much, and he almost welcomes the rushing silence under the surface.

Something slams into him, something warm and soft and flailing. Mihashi opens his eyes, gasping, hearing Abe’s breath heavy against his shoulder. A tiny curl of heat pierces the ice filling Mihashi’s insides.

“You--” Abe starts, but then cries out. Something yanks him down, away from Mihashi and into the depths.

His mind has been racing since the moment he hit the water, but he finally sees one thing clearly: Tajima's face.

_ This time, don’t let go. _

Sucking in air, Mihashi grabs at whatever he can. Clothing, hair. Arms. Then Abe’s gripping him back. Mihashi opens eyes he doesn’t remember squeezing shut to see Abe, hair drifting around him in a way that might be beautiful if not for the rage on his face and the swirling dark shape wrapping itself around his leg.

More words flash in Mihashi’s head.  _ Free him _ .  _ Don’t let go, free him. _ Below him, he can see the ferryman’s ugly face, now distended with bulging eyes and a huge mouth open as if in laughter. Or maybe just ready to swallow them whole.

_ Free him. _

Hand over hand, he climbs down Abe’s body. Something occurs to him and he digs in Abe’s pockets. His fingers are shaking and his lungs are screaming, but somehow, Mihashi takes a handful of the small clay bullets Abe had shown him what feels like a lifetime ago.

_ Just a little farther. Don’t let go. _

Closer, and he’d be crying if the water weren’t stripping his tears away, so close he can taste the stranger’s rotten wood stench. So close he can grit his teeth and shove the bullets down the vodyanoi’s gullet.

Mihashi feels as much as hears the enraged bellow from the creature.

But then he hears it choke. Sees it clawing at its throat. Sees it release Abe.

_ Just hold on. Just hold on. _

Mihashi’s shoulder crunches against a rock.

Maybe there’s a little more to surviving this than just holding on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like you can tell I've been watching a lot of survival horror games lately. everything is RUN TF AWAY
> 
> trying to stay true to anything resembling characterisation while still making people monster-y is. Fun.
> 
> also wheres the au of my au where witch!riou just intends to be the filling of a tajihana sandwich


	4. Chapter 4

They struggle their way to the surface, still clinging to each other. The river is only getting rougher, though, and they need to make it to shore. He feels Abe’s touch on his hips, and even in this dire situation, a thrilling heat rises up again. But Abe’s only freeing the longest of his slings to knot through both of their belts.

He gives Mihashi a fierce grin. Then yelps as he slams against a rock. Mihashi’s starting to panic again, but Abe grabs a handful of his tunic, yelling above the rush of water, “Branch! Have to…” He almost throws Mihashi away from himself

Mihashi can only just see the limb Abe’s talking about. He’s closer, he’ll have to grab it. Graceless and desperate, he flings himself towards it as they plunge closer. Wet bark smacks his palm, and Mihashi croaks a triumphant noise.

And then screams as Abe’s added weight pulls him free.

_ We’re going to die, we’re going to die, we’re going to-- _

He thinks he must have died.

A warm eddy wraps around them, just as wild and rough as the rapids but bearing them up out of the water. Unceremoniously, both of them are dumped on the river’s shore.

As soon as he can do anything other than gasp and choke, Mihashi looks back.

Standing above the water and glowing faintly silver, is a youth. His black hair is unruly, his dress wild, and his cat-like eyes hold a warm curiousity.

“Th…thank…thank…y--”

The figure shakes his head. “I’m sorry, he can be real pig-headed sometimes. Doesn’t see the big picture.” He glances back up the river. “I gotta go, but… I’ll give you this.”

He stretches out his hand, two fingers and thumb extended, and then pinches, as if drawing off a sheet. Mihashi gasps as the cold water drenching his clothes and clinging to his skin and hair sucks away, leaving him dry, if not warm. When he looks over, Abe looks just as disoriented by the feeling.

When he glances back at the river, the shining figure is already turning away, dissolving into the flow like so much moonlight. But he stops, fixing Mihashi with a fierce look. “Don’t you dare give up.” And with that, he’s gone.

Neither of them moves for a long moment. Mihashi clutches the grass next to his cheek as if it might run away. Slowly, achingly, they push themselves upright, still panting hard. Abe looks over at him, eyes full of an emotion Mihashi can’t name. “You…you… I…”

The heat in Mihashi’s stomach is back, curled like a spring to send him hurtling into Abe’s arms. But he can’t, he can’t, fear pushes it back down.

Abe shakes his head, twisting to push himself up. Then hisses with pain, swearing under his breath.

Mihashi gets to his knees, leaning closer and stretching out a hand, then clutching it back against his chest. “Abe…is…”

“I’m  _ fine _ ,” Abe snaps. “Think I just…” He takes his time, unknots the sling joining them together. Mihashi scrambles to his feet, holding out his hands and then snatching them back behind his back. Carefully, Abe shifts his weight, bracing against a tree trunk, and starts to stand.

Then drops back to one knee, panting harshly.

Mihashi halts midway through reaching for him. Abe won’t look up. He can just make out his clenched fists, his set jaw.

“Abe--”

“You need to go.”

“Hweh?” Of all the things he was expecting to hear…

Abe looks up, eyes shining in the last streaks of light. “You have to go! You have to leave me and go.” He shakes his head slowly, shoulders still heaving with each breath.

“I…I can’t…”

Abe’s face tightens, then settles into a more familiar glare. “We don’t know if anyone else survived. They could be injured too! We don’t know if they’ll be able to continue. You  _ have _ to. You have to go. Finish this.”

Mihashi opens and closes his mouth, only the faintest sound coming out. “Abe…we have to…away from the river…”

Abe’s fist slams against the tree. “I  _ told _ you to listen to me! So  _ go! _ ”

Mihashi falls back a step, heart pounding in his chest. Summoning every shred of courage left in his exhausted body, he scrunches up his face and shouts back, “No! I’m not leaving you!”

Abe looks up at him with a mixture of surprise, anger, and…something else. He inhales harshly, looking down at the ground. “Damnit, you don’t—”

Shaking like a leaf, Mihashi plunges on, “And now! Now we’ve…yelling! If we don’t move Abe, something might…something might…come! So we have to…have to go…together!”

That seems to get Abe’s attention. “…That’s a fair point.” He watches Mihashi for a moment longer, seeming to gather his strength. “Help me up.”

Waking up on the mountain seems like it happened days ago, and he’s beyond tired. But Abe needs his help, and, repeating that in his head like a charm, Mihashi offers Abe his shoulder. As he adjusts to the weight, Mihashi notices his ammo pouch hanging open; he pulls it shut, relieved that its heft seems about the same.

They hobble into the sparse woodland on the river’s north bank. It’s not long before Abe spots a small hollow that will offer some shelter; reluctantly, Mihashi leaves him there and scampers off in search of whatever he can find to make them comfortable. When he comes back to deposit his first load of branches, Abe’s digging a bare patch close to the hollow, and asks for a tinderbox before Mihashi leaves again. It might attract more fiends to them, but cold kills just as surely as fangs and magic.

All the while, as he darts back and forth packing the shelter with dry grass, he can feel Abe’s eyes on him. Frustration radiates from him, and it scares Mihashi a little, but Abe  _ needs _ him right now and he can’t let the fear paralyze him. And, some selfish part of him whispers, maybe caring for him like this will make Abe like him more.

Their little fire is crackling merrily and Mihashi has just finished lashing some branches together with his (least favourite) sling when fingers close around his elbow. “Mihashi.” Abe sighs softly. “Sit. You’re going to wear yourself out.”

Mihashi dithers, afraid Abe will let go if he moves, afraid he’ll let go if he doesn’t. But he is reaching the end of his strength , and, thrown together as it is, the little den calls to him with the promise of some small comfort.

Abe gives his arm another tug. “Mihashi.”

Before he can lose his nerve completely, Mihashi swings down into the nest of grass and presses himself close to Abe’s side. Abe flinches, holding still for a long and terrifying moment, then exhales heavily and slumps against him.

After a long silence, Abe takes an uneven breath, grabbing Mihashi’s head roughly, fingers sliding into his hair. Mihashi feels a spark of panic, but Abe just presses his forehead against Mihashi’s temple, breath coming ragged against his cheek. That warmth is back, sparkling through his chest and radiating from every point their bodies touch. Abe’s left hand still grips his arm; Mihashi wriggles out of his grasp, instead linking their hands together.

Abe settles closer. Then gives another pained gasp. Almost guiltily, he sits back, loosing his hold on Mihashi’s hair to rub at his shoulder.

Mihashi watches him anxiously. “Can I…”

Abe shakes his head, then hums. “Actually…” Mihashi sits to attention, but Abe just unclips a hardened leather case from his belt. He undoes the catch, stops, gives it a dismayed sniff, then glances over at Mihashi. “Whatever you do, don’t touch this.”

Drawing a small knife, he nudges the top open to reveal what was once row upon row of neatly-ordered vials. Unsurprisingly, several of them are cracked or smashed altogether, and a rainbow of noxious-looking liquids ooze down the leather.

“Shit,” Abe mutters.

“These would…help?” Mihashi leans in, catching a whiff that makes his eyes water.

“Not these. Maybe…” Still using the tip of his knife, he lifts the set of cradles out of the case, revealing another smaller rank underneath. A few of these are cracked as well, and another looks like one of the other potions has dissolved through its cork lid. But Abe salvages three bottles of a pumpkin-coloured liquid and another filled with some berry-red concoction.

“Those look tasty.” Mihashi admires the way they swirl in the firelight.

“They’re actually not bad. If you like having a mouthful of herbs and salt.” Abe gives him a crooked smile.

“They’ll make it better?” Mihashi asks, eyes flicking from Abe’s shoulder to his leg, then back to his face.

Abe grimaces. “Not exactly, but they’ll numb the pain. But I should save these.” He sets the bottles aside and scooches out of their shelter a little ways, digging a small hole in the dirt and scraping out the case into it as best he can.

“Because…tomorrow?” Mihashi wonders if he should offer to clean it for him. Considering how cautiously Abe’s treating the spilled potions, maybe not.

“Yeah. We’re close, that’s why  _ this _ ,” Abe jabs his thumb at his shoulder, “is acting up. But we might still have a ways to go, so we need to be cautious with our resources.”

Mihashi pulls a stem of grass out of the haphazard bed, picking at its layers. “Wouldn’t…if Abe is tired? Also bad. So for sleeping…?”

Abe shoots him an annoyed glance over his shoulder, but then rubs his chin thoughtfully. “You may have a point.” He shrugs. “I think I’ll be okay tonight, though. It’s mostly fine if I’m resting.” Finally done with the case, he shifts painfully back into the shelter, collecting the remaining vials and replacing them carefully in their cradles. “What about you? You must’ve taken some hits, too.”

Mihashi’s eyes widen, and he hops out of the shelter so he can twist and wave his limbs experimentally. Abe snickers into his palm watching him, something almost affectionate in his eyes.

“It’s…I’m…fine! Just…bruises, so…” Mihashi crawls back into the shelter, leaning on his hands over Abe’s knee, then glancing up at him. “There’s not… Is there anything I can do to help Abe feel…feel good?”

Abe looks at him sharply again.

Suddenly conscious of how close he is, Mihashi can’t hold Abe’s gaze. Heart pounding, he turns his face away, rubbing his warm cheek against his shoulder.

Gruffly, Abe finally answers, “Just you being here helps.” With a sigh, he pushes himself deeper into the shelter. “We should try to get some sleep. …You don’t happen to have any food on you, do you?”

Mihashi pats at his clothes, even though he’s been acutely aware of the scanty pouch of trail rations in his coat pocket for at least the past hour. He holds it out, showing Abe the contents. Abe exhales a resigned sound.

“We should save that for the morning, too.”

Mihashi folds it back up, tucking it safely away. “Maybe we…find something? On the way?”

“Let’s hope so.” Abe deliberately settles down in the grass on his right side, back echoing the lean-to’s curve.

Mihashi glances back and forth.  _ Abe’s taking…the whole bed? Should I make another one? _

“C’mere, you need to sleep too.” Abe pats the grass in front of him.

In an instant, fizzing excitement washes away the disappointment and doubt. Mihashi scrambles into place, almost but not quite touching Abe. Who shifts closer, until their bodies are lightly pressed together.

Mihashi inhales sharply, trying not to tense too much, but not to relax too much either. Abe’s breath stirs the hairs at the nape of his neck, creeping down the collar of his coat like warm ghostly fingers.

Something occurs to Mihashi, and he pushes himself up so he can look at Abe. “Aren’t… Abe should be…closer to the fire?”

Abe reluctantly cracks open one eye. “I’m fine. You seem like the type that’d get cold easily.”

Mihashi grips his tunic, biting his lip.  _ Even though he’s the one hurt, Abe’s looking after me! _ Nodding to himself, he wriggles back to his knees and shrugs out of his coat.

“Ugh, can you just settl--” Abe falls silent when Mihashi drapes his thick wool coat over him. He gives Mihashi a searching look, one hand absently touching the coat’s lapels.

Mihashi watches the firelight play over his cheeks and in the deep grey of his eyes for a long moment. Softly, he says, “I can’t…do this without you. So please…please…” Unsure how to finish, he flops back down, snuggling back against Abe.

Abe seems frozen for a long moment. Then, with a huffy exhale, he tugs the coat so it’s spread over both of them. Somehow, his arm ends up draped over Mihashi’s side, warm and heavy and feeling like it could ward off all that the wilds could throw at them.

Mihashi lets his eyes fall shut, but sleep still feels a long way off. He lays in silence for a long while, then, not turning around, asks, “Abe?”

Abe groans softly. At least he’s not asleep yet.

“Your shoulder. It…did… Is it because…Haruna?”

He feels Abe tense. It doesn’t seem like he’s going to answer, but at least he doesn’t push Mihashi away. Eventually, though, Abe replies, “Yeah.” He inhales deeply, sagging into the bed and tugging Mihashi fractionally closer. “Don’t worry about it, it’s an old wound.”

“But…it hurts?” Mihashi’s fingers creep up, plucking at Abe’s sleeve. “Still?”

Abe nods, cheek brushing Mihashi’s shoulder. “It’s actually been fine for ages. I think…something about getting close to the heart is making it act up. At least we know we’re on the right track, I guess.”

Abe doesn’t seem to mind his touch; feeling bold, Mihashi curls his hand around Abe’s wrist. “But…” He shakes his head. Questions are leaping over each other in his mind, clamouring for his attention. “Abe said… You were his…student? Why…why…”

“There was a time when I looked up to him.” Humming softly, Abe rests his forehead against Mihashi’s shoulder. “He wasn’t like this, not at first. Or at least, I didn’t see it. I went to him willingly. I thought I could learn from him, I thought he was someone I…” He shakes his head. “In the end, I think he just saw me as another tool, another resource to be used up and cast away.”

Tears prickle at the corners of Mihashi’s eyes. “But what…”

Abe shoves himself up, tugging on Mihashi’s shoulder until he’s on his back. Mihashi looks up at him, eyes widening, pulse pounding in his ears. Strange expressions flit across Abe’s features, ephemeral as the firelight kissing the planes of his cheek and nose. After a long moment, he exhales heavily, then catches Mihashi’s eyes with an easy smile.

“Why don’t I tell you more about it after this is all done? You were right, if I don’t rest properly, I won’t be able to keep going.” With that, he reaches for their makeshift blanket and settles back on the grass.

_ After this is all over… _ Mihashi wriggles in place, getting comfortable as he waits hopefully for Abe’s arm. And then sagging with relief when Abe encircles him again. This time, he doesn’t hesitate, just takes hold of Abe’s hand with both of his, holding it close against his chest. He’s certain Abe can feel the way his heart is pounding, but he’s far too greedy to let this opportunity pass.

The fire burns low, leaving streaks on his vision even with his eyes closed. Mihashi blinks at it, sleepily. Like this, he can almost pretend they’re somewhere safe. Tucked into a bed together, with all the bite of growing winter and its wolves shut away outside.  _ After this… _ He wishes he could look at Abe. Have the boldness to press him further.

The deeper they’d got into this adventure, the more certain Mihashi had been that he wouldn’t see the other side of it, if any of them did. It seemed like blind luck was carrying them from one near-disaster to the next, and eventually, that luck had to run out. To be fair, there are now only two of them, Abe’s injured, and they haven’t the slightest idea where they are, so perhaps it has.

Mihashi jams that terrifying thought down.  _ After. What if there was an after? _

Every time he’d worked with other hunters, he couldn’t wait to get away from them. Even if he liked them, wanted their acceptance, he knew he’d never get it. It was just easier to be alone. But now… Faces flash in his mind, all the little moments of kindness and friendship over the last few days. Mihashi squeezes his eyes shut tight against sudden tears.

_ Even if…they’re all gone, even then… I’ll carry them with me. And if…if Abe and I can make it out… _ Mihashi looks down at Abe’s fingers loosely curled on his own.  _ Maybe we’ll still be friends. Maybe we could work together. Maybe even…like this… _

He falls asleep listening to Abe’s slow breathing and the river’s distant din.

* * *

Mihashi wakes to the rude kiss of morning frost on his nose and fingers. He grumbles, nuzzling under his coat to find the shared heat there. Then opens his eyes with a start when he notices there’s no longer a solid warmth pressed against his back.

To his relief, his blurry eyes find Abe’s shape sat next to the remains of their fire. He has his bad leg extended, and he’s working at one end of a long branch, but as soon as he hears Mihashi stir, he looks up with a surprisingly affable expression.

“Sleep okay?”

Mihashi crawls free of the grass pile, tugging his coat closer around him. “Mm…mm-hm!” He settles on his knees next to Abe, examining his work: the branch had taken a solid chunk of the trunk with it, and Abe is whittling it into more of a comfortable curve. “For…walking?”

“Yep.” Abe angles it up, showing his handiwork. “Probably also going to hurt, but it should mean I can keep going without doing too much further damage.” He jerks his head in the direction of a flat rock set close by the fire. “I found breakfast.”

Mihashi inhales, eyes widening at the sight of two modestly-sized river fish skewered on twigs and a handful of late berries. Still, he stops himself before devouring it. “Abe had some…too?”

Abe gives a slight nod. “‘S all yours.”

Not waiting to be told twice, Mihashi falls on the offering with glee. Then holds up one of the fish, glancing between its one charred side and Abe.

Abe sighs with a look of embarrassment. “I’m decent at catching it, but cooking it isn’t my forte, okay?”

Mihashi eyes it critically, but decides that charcoal will still fill his belly. “Next time…let…me?”

He can feel Abe watching him. “I will.”

All too soon, the food is gone, but at least the demon growling in Mihashi’s stomach is quieted for the moment. He flops back with a happy groan, stirring a chuckle from Abe. Mihashi swings his head to the side, studying Abe’s face in the gathering dawn. “Did you…did you sleep? At all?”

Abe puts down his work, stretching. “Enough.” He leans back on his palms, giving Mihashi a sidelong glance that makes his stomach do a funny flip. “ _ You _ were sleeptalking.”

Mihashi tenses like a startled rabbit.  _ Oh no, what did I say? He knows, he knows, he knows, he-- _

“Something about…bears? Most of it was just mumbling…” He yawns heavily. “No more talking about it, or I’m gonna get tired again, and we should really get moving. Try this thing out.” He tosses the crutch lightly, giving the arm rest a critical look. “Found this snagged on some rocks. You think our watery friend left it for me?”

“M…maybe!”

“At least something out there doesn’t hate us,” Abe sighs.

Mihashi sways upright, reaching for the grey-brown wood. Then frowns for a second before diving back into the shelter, reappearing with two handfuls of dried grass. “The…it’ll hurt? But we… My parents, when it was cold, in the…boots…it’s…”

Abe’s mouth draws into a flat line as he stares at Mihashi for a good minute. “You mean…as padding??”

Thrilled to be understood, Mihashi nods excitedly.

“Good thought.” Abe takes one of Mihashi’s handfuls of grass, starting to wrap it around the crutch.

It takes them some struggling and the sacrifice of the bottom hem of Abe’s tunic, but they manage to fashion something acceptable-looking. Abe takes a few experimental steps, and, with relief plain on his face, declares them ready to set out.

Before they go, Abe reminds him to recover his sling from the lean-to. Mihashi unwinds it, then stops, staring at it for a moment. Slowly, his hand creeps to his hip, tugging open the drawstring of his ammo pouch. His fingers slip inside. And then his whole hand, groping frantically through the pebbles and bullets and spilling some to the ground. Breath coming quick, he drops to his knees and upends the pouch on the cleared dirt in front of their shelter.

“What the hell are you--”

“It’s! Gone!” Mihashi wails. He paws through the stones, as if his eyes might just be failing him.

“What?”

“My rock, my…” Mihashi shakes his head, patting himself down and turning out every pocket.

“You look like you’ve got plenty to me.”

“No, a special…! It was…lucky!”

Abe snorts. “There’s no such thing.”

“It  _ was! _ ” He whirls, tossing grass out of the shelter and feeling around for anything hard.

“Mihashi, we need to go. You can find another lucky rock.”

“It…” He stares at the flattened grass, chest heaving.

Abe drops into a crouch beside him, one hand fitting against Mihashi’s cheek to turn him towards him, the other groping for Mihashi’s own limp hands. “It’ll be okay. If we hang around in the open here for too long, we’ll  _ definitely _ be unlucky.”

Mihashi’s lower lip trembles, but Abe holds his hands and his gaze firmly until finally he hunches over, nodding. They scoop everything back into Mihashi’s pockets and pouch, and finally set out.

Shoulders tight and face miserable, Mihashi stays close to Abe’s side. Until he snaps at him for getting in the way of the crutch. When Mihashi shrinks away, though, Abe rolls his eyes and grabs his elbow, pulling him around to his other side.

“I’m not mad at you.”

Mihashi stops mid-step. “Ah?”

Abe takes another few steps without looking at him. “I don’t know if you’re just upset about your rock, but… I’m not mad at you.”

Mihashi hums assent, and they keep walking.

Abe’s right, he has to move on. He does his best to throw himself into scanning the rolling hills around them. Now, there’s only the two of them to keep lookout, and Mihashi feels the loss of the group keenly. But if he lets himself think about that…

Mihashi shakes his head.  _ No, I’m going to pretend everyone’s safe. Even Tajima and Hanai. Everyone’s safe, and we’ll meet up with them soon. _

As the sun climbs its shallow arc behind them, his heart lightens, though he never truly relaxes. The terrain is starting to flatten subtly, which certainly seems to make things easier for Abe.

Around midmorning, they spot something large and fluid loping on the horizon. It stops in its tracks, scenting the air, then stands up on its hind legs; both of them take a defensive stance. But after sniffing at them a few more times, it drops back to all fours and trots off in the opposite direction.

Mihashi watches it go, brows pulling together. “Um…”

“What?” Abe glances at him. “You hungry?”

“No. Y-yes! But,” Mihashi fiddles with his slings; he should really be keeping an eye out for lunch. “We’re… Before, there were lots…lots of monsters, but now, we haven’t…”

“Careful, you’re gonna jinx us.” Abe pulls a face, then shrugs. “Could be as simple as two people don’t attract as much attention, could be blind luck.”

He frowns to himself, and is silent for long enough that Mihashi resigns himself to the conversation being over. But Abe continues, “Might also be that there  _ is _ a concentration of nasties right on the border. If you think about it, a lot of the folks we push out when our towns grow aren’t going to want to go far. Plus, when you come up against a witch like the one we met, you tend to stop expanding. Both of those would result in a concentration in the borderlands.”

Mention of the witch steals all Mihashi’s buoyancy in a flash.

Abe seems to notice his dip in mood, and he frowns, rubbing a hand over his mouth. “Sorry, shouldn’t’ve brought that up.” They walk quietly for a while before Abe elbows him gently. “They’ll be alright. Hanai may be easy to manipulate, but he’s brighter than he lets on, and Tajima’s a slippery one.” He gives Mihashi a wan smile. “For all we know, they’ve already escaped and are headed this way. Might even make it there before I do, with this leg.”

Mihashi nods solemnly. He can feel Abe watching him, but he can’t quite bring himself to look over fully.

“You said you cook. What kinds of things do you cook?”

Mihashi jerks his head up, perplexed.  _ Why… Abe sounds…mad…? _ “I…just…just things…”

Abe takes a deliberate breath. “Baking. Do you bake stuff?”

“I…” Mihashi curls one hand in front of his chest, eyes flicking back and forth. “I can’t bake anything…here…sorry…”

Another inhale, but it’s a very long time before Abe finally says, “What.”

Feeling more and more panicked, Mihashi turns his head away.

“Mihashi!” Abe comes to a stop, waving an arm in front of him. “I’m not… There’s not a right answer here. I just thought,” he exhales heavily, leaning on his crutch, “you might like talking about that stuff.”

_ Was Abe…trying to cheer me up? _ Mihashi risks a peek. Abe still looks angry, but it does seem like just his normal level of angry. Still worrying at the front of his coat, he turns fully. “I…I like…baking? But…more, cooking…”

“Good!” The sudden volume leaves Mihashi reeling. With a decisive nod, Abe starts walking again. “So, what kinds of things?”

They manage to keep the conversation going for a surprisingly long time. Mihashi’s dying to know what kinds of foods Abe ate while he was at the castle, but somehow, Abe always dodges the questions. He’ll answer questions about himself in the present, and himself as a child--Mihashi feels a wistful envy when Abe talks about sneaking fruit with his little brother--but there’s a distinct wall starting in his teens and running up until a few months ago. Curious as Mihashi is, he doesn’t press Abe, not right now when they’re managing to talk so easily.

And maybe it feels a little good, explaining just how to wrap the pirozhki so the filling doesn’t spill. About making jam in the summer with his cousins, about which vegetables make good pickles and which ones really don’t. Abe doesn’t seem to know much of anything about preparing food, and he seems impressed in a way that makes Mihashi feel warm down to his toes. The only problem is, it’s making him hungry. And more than a little homesick.

Abe exhales heavily. “I definitely misjudged you when we first met.” Mihashi risks a glance at him, catching Abe giving him another of those sidelong smiles. “Glad I got a chance to know better.”

Mihashi looks away again, plucking at his tunic. “But Abe is…really amazing…too! Much more…than me!”

Suddenly, Abe slings an arm around his neck, pulling him in and ruffling his hair hard. “Just take the damn compliment, you…!”

Mihashi gasps, then hiccups out a quiet laugh. They’ve stopped walking, the early afternoon sunlight toasty on their shoulders and a playful breeze stirring their hair. Abe’s fingers are warm against his scalp, and for a long moment, Mihashi can imagine they’re not days away from home and safety and anything familiar. Just two friends, out for a walk.

_ Friends. Or… _

Abe finally releases him, though he gives him an awkward side-squeeze before letting him go completely. “We should think about taking a rest, soon, see if we can find anything to--” Abe trails off, staring at the sky beyond Mihashi’s head. Mihashi turns to look.

At first, he sees what he thinks is a very small, very dark stormcloud. But it’s growing on the horizon far too fast, and it’s moving, undulating in a way that no cloud should.

“Run.” Abe yanks on the front of his coat. “RUN!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mihashi getting to the point where he'll tell Abe off is my kink


	5. Chapter 5

Mihashi doesn’t question Abe's order, just launches away from the shape growing on the horizon. He knows he’s leaving Abe behind; he casts a look over his shoulder, but Abe glowers at him.

“Bushes. There! Go!”

Mihashi scans the grasslands and spots the small stand of bushes. They seem exposed, obvious, but when he snatches another look, he can see the flying creature is gaining on them too fast to be picky. He alters his course, spurred on by Abe’s approving shout behind him.

He can hear it now, a thunderous pounding punctuated with a rasping cry that seems to rake down his spine. Ice fills his insides; he’s heard that sound once before, back on the other side of the mountains. That shadow that had left Shinooka looking so shaken, that seemed to go on forever.

Not losing momentum, Mihashi slides under the bushes, rolling twice before he comes to a stop. It’s impossible to tell if he’s hidden or not, but it’s too late now.

And now he’s left to watch, heart in his mouth, as Abe fights his way closer and the beast in the sky grows and grows.

Mihashi can see details of it now, but those details just leave him more confused. It reminds him a little of the zmei, but its head makes him think of a dog. But…it also has the churning legs of a horse. A lot of them. And more wings than he can count, stretching charcoal and red feathers to the sky and obscuring its full form with their furious beating.

His eyes flick back to Abe. At some point, he ditched the crutch, and his face is pinched and grey as he tries to sprint. Mihashi starts pulling himself towards the edge of the bushes, but stops himself. He would only slow Abe down. He stares at him as if he could pull him closer with will alone. The beast is almost overhead, and Mihashi notices with a sinking feeling that its head is now pointed in their direction.

“Abe, it’s…!” He doesn’t dare point, doesn’t dare attract attention. Not that Abe can’t guess. Teeth bared, he redoubles his efforts. Mihashi can see him fiddling with something at his hip. He can also see the beast arching up as if calculating.

It dives.

Mihashi screams something wordless, anguished. The beast’s talons crash into the earth with teeth-clacking force, kicking up a cloud of dirt and grass. He loses track of Abe, but Mihashi glimpses someone else before the beast pushes off the ground, someone all streaks of dark hair and a wild smile. The beast’s talons rake the bushes above him as it takes off, and he has to jerk his arm out of the way of something grey and sizzling that splatters to the earth nearby.

_ Did it…did it get him? _ He scans the sky, trying to get a good look at the beast. It writhes in the air, circling around with an angry bellow. Its form is too confusing, moving too fast for him to see if a small figure dangles from its jaws.

“A…be…?” His voice breaks.

Something he can’t see barrels into him, knocking him breathless. Mihashi brings up his hands defensively, but instead of claws or scales, he feels...hair and clothes. With a hiccuped sob, he clasps Abe tightly against his chest.

The creature stoops again, though it doesn’t impact. It sounds out, swaying its head unnervingly. He doesn’t need to see anymore. Chest heaving, Mihashi buries his face in Abe’s slowly reappearing hair.

Somewhere nearby, there’s a crackle of underbrush; something breaking cover. Mihashi cranes to see, but it’s behind him. The beast’s head snaps in that direction; it flaps heavily, lifting back into the air. He can smell it, musty and alien and the acrid stink of its spittle.

Another bone-shaking impact and a scream that’s a little too close to human for comfort. Abe flinches, fingers clenched on Mihashi’s sides. The beast releases a reverberating bellow of triumph that trails into the sky above.

They lie there, panting and shaking but not daring to move. Not even when the beast’s wingbeats and hoof falls seem to be moving away. Not even when they hear its bellow echo distantly. But the minutes tick by with no sign of the beast returning, and finally, reluctantly, Mihashi loosens his hold. For a long moment, Abe doesn’t.

They crawl out, dusting themselves off and stretching cramped muscles. Mihashi dashes off to fetch the crutch, coming back to Abe poking at his knee with a dismal expression. He hugs the branch against his chest, watching Abe as he approaches.

_ That thing… _

“Abe…”

“Mm?” Abe looks up and reaches for the crutch with a halfhearted smile. “Thanks.”

“…you knew what that thing was.”

Abe looks a little like Mihashi had smacked him upside the head with the crutch instead of handing it to him. The next moment, though, he smiles. “I knew it was bad news, I didn’t--”

“No.” Heart thumping, Mihashi presses on. “As…as soon as you saw it, you knew. What it was. H... _who_ it was.”

Abe huffs out a laugh, picking at some loose bark. He sets the crutch down and pats the grass beside him. “Okay. I know that thing, yeah.”

Mihashi drops down beside him, huddling in a ball, eyes trained on Abe’s face.

“It’s Haruna’s, in case you couldn’t guess.” Abe laughs again, dry and mirthless, rubbing his shoulder and looking up at the sky. “With everything he knows, he can get around just fine on his own, but he loves the drama of having some huge monster at his beck and call.”

There’s something in his eyes, something desperate, like a hart brought to bay. And then kept there. For years. Mihashi aches, looking at him. The next moment, though, Abe draws the curtain down over his expression once more.

“It was definitely looking for us. I’m just glad I spotted it. It’s not terribly smart or perceptive, but it’s fast and it’s dangerous, and its bite will dissolve you from the inside out.” Abe’s eyebrows quirk. “I actually had a few vials of its venom in my pack, hope they’re still okay…”

Mihashi swallows heavily, wishing Abe hadn’t told him that last part. “He’s been…searching, this whole time? But…only at the…but he lost us.”

Abe finally meets his eyes, if only for a moment. “He’s been searching from the moment he found me gone. He doesn’t like having a toy taken away. And he didn’t lose us, he knew exactly where we were. Until last night.” Abe kicks at the dirt; Mihashi watches him with a sinking feeling. 

“Abe… There’s still things you’re not telling me, right?”

“Not much, at this point.” Abe nods to himself, then glances over. “That rock you had? The lucky one. How long did you have it?”

“I…” That morning seems like it was years ago, like it had happened to somebody else. “I found it…just before we…we left…”

Abe smiles bitterly. “It was a focus. Hell, maybe that wasn't the only one.” He looks over briefly. “You get it? Something Haruna could use to keep track of us, even spy on us directly. One of his minions must’ve dropped it in front of you, and you…” He shakes his head, then looks at the sky again. “You innocently went for it, because why wouldn’t you? I had an inkling, the first time I touched it. I still wasn’t sure, even last night, but after seeing this… He’s looking, now. Lost his direct link.”

After a long silence, he looks over at Mihashi. “What? What’s wrong?”

“I put…put everyone in danger?” Mihashi chokes out, shuddering. “I was…it…” He can barely see Abe for the welling tears.  _ If Haruna could use it to find us, could other things? Is that why monsters kept coming after us?  _ “Am I the…am I the reason Tajima…or…or…” He crumples over, arms in front of his face.

“What? What the hell.” Abe plants both fists on the ground, leaning towards him. “Hey, knock it off.” He gives Mihashi’s shoulder a shake, then huffs out an irritated noise. “Look, you didn’t do anything wrong, so stop fucking crying already!”

Mihashi peeks at him around his balled fists. “But I…but I had that…”

“You got tricked!” Abe sweeps his hand out dismissively. “That’s what he does! Could’ve happened to anyone. Could’ve happened to me.” He sighs heavily, sitting back. “What matters is, it’s gone now, and if we can stay hidden he has no way to keep tabs on us anymore.” He looks over at Mihashi, trying for a smile. “Unless you got any other sketchy rocks kicking around.”

Part of him wants to laugh, wants to be cheered up. But a sinking misery is collecting in his gut. “…You took it.”

Abe blinks at him, face going solemn. “Was wondering how long it’d take for you to put that together.” He hunches over, resting one elbow on his good knee. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. But I didn’t think you’d give it to me willingly.”

“No, Abe was…right…” Mihashi sags, feeling drained of all energy.

Abe smacks the earth beside him. “Damnit, you’re allowed to be pissed at me!”

Mihashi cringes, then yells back, “I!  _ Am! _ ” They stare at each other for a long moment, Mihashi’s chest heaving as he sucks in air. He closes his eyes, giving his head a small shake. Then plunges forward, squashing his face against Abe’s arm. “But! You’re also…all I’ve got! And…” His fingers come up of their own accord, clinging to Abe’s coat. “All I’ve…”

Abe grumbles wordlessly, then slings an arm around his shoulders, crushing him in closer.

The wind plays through their hair, moaning low as it rakes over the grasslands. Mihashi nudges against Abe’s shoulder, rubbing the last of his tears away, and finally sits up. Seeming almost reluctant, Abe releases him.

Abe breathes in heavily. “…You still got those rations?”

* * *

When they move on, Mihashi is even more vigilant than before. He’s the one who spots the small group of figures on a distant hill. They dance and leap, looking like tiny flames, like sunbeams caught and made flesh. However merry the little mob might look, the two of them give them a wide berth, crouched as low as Abe can manage.

They catch sight of Haruna’s Beast crossing in the distance, but it doesn’t come closer. Mihashi is glad; he can tell that Abe’s strength is flagging, and it doesn’t look like he could manage another dash like earlier. Even he’s looking forward to a break, though sleeping rough again isn’t particularly appealing.

He’s just about ready to ask Abe to stop when they startle a rodent out of the bushes. In one smooth motion, Mihashi brings it down with his sling. They both stare at it for a long time, too weary even to be happy.

Finding a campsite is even harder here. They settle for a spot in the lee of some more of the bushes they’d hid under. It’s been a long time since they saw trees, but they manage to build some shelter out of the bracken. Even the grass here is stubbier, tougher-seeming, but it’s better than nothing.

They don’t talk much. Abe’s clearly in pain, and Mihashi does his best once more to take on the bulk of setting up camp and roasting their meal. Though Abe has to call his name to wake him when he nods off kneeling by the fire. Some part of him still feels a coil of excitement at spending another night together, but mostly, he just feels numb.

This time, they sandwich themselves between the two coats, packing more grass around and on top of them. It’s itchy and pokey, but he does start to feel warmer as he huddles closer to Abe. Mihashi desperately tries to cling to consciousness so he can enjoy being snuggled just a little longer, but, head pillowed on Abe’s arm, he shivers himself to sleep.

* * *

He awakes to something cold and wet on his cheeks. His eyelashes flutter open, catching more moisture, and once his eyes focus, he can see a light dusting of snow on the ground around them.

Abe grumbles when Mihashi moves. Carefully, he turns to look at him; even in sleep, Abe’s face looks drawn and pale, and he seems like he's clenching his jaw. Mihashi spends a long moment examining him, drinking him in, as if by keeping vigil he could drive away the pain.

But his stomach is making itself known again. His heart skips a little, thinking of being able to show Abe the same kindness he’d shown yesterday morning. Reluctantly, Mihashi slips out of the bed, tucking coats and grass around Abe.

He rekindles the fire, and it’s about then that he remembers he doesn’t have another coat.  _ Have to be quick, then. _ Sling in hand, he makes short sallies to search before returning to the fire to thaw his fingers. The snow seems to have stopped at least, but Mihashi still resorts to pulling his sleeves down over his hands and slapping his arms against his sides to keep his blood pumping. He’s close to giving up when he startles a roosting ptarmigan. No eggs this time of year, but hopefully the fall-fattened animal will be enough.

Abe finally wakes at the sound of sizzling fat. He sways upright, groping at the coat on top of him, and squinting in Mihashi’s direction. Then grates out an aggravated noise.

“The hell are you doing out with no coat on!” He starts to get up, winces, then just balls up the coat and throws it at Mihashi. “Take care of yourself, damnit.”

Wordlessly, Mihashi tugs the garment around himself.  _ It’s…Abe’s. _ He smiles into the flames, breathing in its unfamiliar chemical scent underneath the spreading smell of breakfast.

They eat in companionable silence, hip to hip in the shelter to soak up whatever last dregs of warmth remain there. Mihashi has to help Abe stand; they exchange a sober look as Abe downs another of the orange potions.

But there’s nothing to do but keep going. However slowly.

Mihashi tries his best to keep a look out again, but his head feels dull and heavy. Abe tries making conversation a couple times, but they peter out pretty quick. At least the terrain is friendly, just a gentle slope down that seems to go on forever.

“Hey…you smell that?”

Mihashi startles as if he had been asleep on his feet. Blinking quickly, he obediently inhales. And then again, puzzled. “O…cean?”

Looking more lively than he has all morning, Abe nods once. “We’re almost there! C’mon.”

Mihashi raises his eyes. Not far off, he can see a tantalising glitter he’d assumed was snow. Energized, they quicken their steps. The air is frigid and wet against his cheeks, and in the distance, he can see chunks of grey-blue-white drifting on the waves. As they crest a last rise, Mihashi breaks into a run, unable to contain a happy cry. Behind him, Abe chuckles, a warm and rich noise under the crunch and clack of pebbles. The surf reaches out to meet Mihashi, drowning out his laughter with its own happy wash and hiss.

Mihashi thrusts his hands in the water, enjoying the biting cold of it, the way the current drags at his fingers even in the shallows. Standing, he peers out over the waves to where distant islands seem to float on a faint haze.  _ It’s so big... _

Frowning, he twists to see where Abe is. Then freezes, cheeks instantly flushing hot.  _ Abe is…looking at…me? _

No sooner than he has the thought, Abe scrubs a hand across his eyes, yawning big.

Mihashi smiles to himself.  _ Of course not. He’s excited to see the ocean too. That smile, it was because we’re almost there… _

Which reminds of the question that had turned him in the first place. He scampers back up the beach to Abe. “Um…”

“Hm?”

For once, Mihashi’s the one having trouble catching Abe’s eye. He gives up quickly, tugging on the hem of his tunic. “Abe…we…how do we…the island…”

Abe exhales heavily. “I was thinking about that too. I’ve been so caught up just getting us here, and before, we would’ve had the others to help, but…” He meets Mihashi’s eyes with a wry smile. “We’ll figure it out.”

“Where is it? Is it far?”

Abe shakes his head, wincing. “From what I know, it moves around, which at least is...distinct. Goddamn magic island, couldn’t be easy, could it…”

After a moment, Mihashi decides Abe probably doesn’t expect an answer to his grousing. Which is when something rockets into the small of his back, knocking him into Abe. Mihashi squawks, trying to get away and get a look at his assailant even with Abe grabbing hold of him. It’s…

The grey fox leaps at his thighs, mouth hanging open in what can only be described as a grin. It cavorts around their feet for a moment, then before his eyes, its limbs lengthen and fill out, its face flattens and rounds, and its fur disappears in favour of acne-scarred skin, dark leathers, and a warm green coat.

Izumi bowls him over, still full of bubbly excitement. Mihashi can only goggle at him, suddenly connecting the dots on several things.

“You’re--”

“You’re alive!” Izumi rolls back on his heels, offering Mihashi a hand. “How the hell are you-- Abe, what happened to your leg?”

Abe shrugs. “Lost a fight with a rock. Is everyone else okay?”

Izumi nods, smiling broader than Mihashi’s seen on him yet. “We were pretty banged up, but Suyama patched us up good, Sakaeguchi too. C’mon,” he beckons, not waiting before he turns around, “let’s get you to them, get you fixed up.” He glances over his shoulder with more of his usual arch expression. “Don’t wanna give Abe an excuse to become even more of a crotchety old man.”

As they near the camp, a new scent hits Mihashi: food. By the time Izumi calls out a greeting and sprints the last distance, Mihashi’s drooling a little. The last full meal they’d had had been nearly three days ago, and they hadn’t stopped today since breakfast. But he contains himself, sticking by Abe’s side, watching Izumi explain and gesture towards them.

Shinooka drops something, Mizutani cheers. Sakaeguchi sets off at a dead run towards them, Ai-chan hot on his heels and the rest of the group trailing after. Mihashi takes half a step back before Abe grabs the front of his shirt, dragging him towards the small crowd.

“…were you, we were so worried--”

“Saw you go under, and Abe--”

“…never believe what we saw--”

“How did you--”

Momoe crushes both of them against her breastplate in a rough hug.

Someone seems to be hugging or patting him the entire way back to the camp, and Mihashi’s glad of the the physical support. It’s dizzying, euphoric, being greeted like this. But also wrenching: as unlikely as it is, he can’t stop himself searching the campsite for one particular solid little form, one sun-bright smile.

He does get pulled away from Abe, and even though someone immediately pushes a bowl of stew into his hands, Mihashi casts about with a sudden clench of worry. Abe’s not far: Oki and Suyama have him braced between them, guiding him into a tent and lowering him gently to a blanket. Only then does it hit him fully how much Abe’s been just bearing with the pain he’s in.

_ That’s…that’s good, at least. Now Abe can be taken care of properly. _

While he watches, Suyama shoos Oki out, drawing the tent flap. Mihashi pins his eyes back on his lunch, eyes wide.  _ Abe will…have to…pants…off… _ His face is ablaze, but hopefully, everyone will assume it’s the warmth of the campfire.

Once he’s emptied his bowl and handed it back for seconds, he remembers his earlier worry. He scrabbles over and tugs on Momoe’s cloak to get her attention, then asks, “H-how…the island, how’re we…”

“Mm?” Momoe dips her chin, her smile determined. “Don’t worry about that. We didn’t end up on this stretch of shore at this time by accident; see that?” Mihashi follows where she points and sees a dark shape rising out of the water, its base shrouded in mist. “That’s our goal, and Shinooka’s going to get us there.”

Mihashi glances to where Shinooka crouches over a baffling pile of struts and wires. Seeming to hear her name, she rises and hustles over to them.

“I think we’re on track!” She jerks a thumb over her shoulder. “Sakaeguchi thinks he can replace the floats, but we should wait until we’re ready in case they deflate or puncture.”

“Fantastic. I’m leaving it in your hands. Make sure you get these folks to help.”

Shinooka nods with a small smile, then turns to Mihashi. “Oh, by the way… Sakaeguchi was wondering if you have any injuries too?”

Mihashi shakes his head vigorously. “Just…bruises!”

Shinooka levels a dazzling smile at him. “Abe was lucky to have you with him, wasn’t he?”

Colour rises in Mihashi’s cheeks again.  _ He’s not the one that’s lucky… _

“Oh, that reminds me!” Momoe intercepts Mizutani as he’s bringing over two steaming bowls.

“Hey, that was…” Ignored, Mizutani deflates and heads back towards the pot.

“Mihashi, take this to Abe. I don’t think Suyama’ll be done with him for a while yet.”

Mihashi accepts the bowls from her nervously. The few steps to the tent stretch in front of him dizzyingly.

_ What if it’s different now? What if it’s not? What if Abe doesn’t want to have anything to do with me, now the rest are here? What if he-- _

Someone draws aside the tent flap for him, and he ducks inside.

Suyama glances over at him, then back at where his hands are set above and below Abe’s knee, emitting a soft salmon glow that seems to soak into the skin. The bare skin. A lot of bare skin. Abe seems to be stripped to his underwear, though he does have blankets thrown across his lap and wrapped around his shoulders.

“Oh, Mihashi,” Abe says warmly, pushing himself up on one elbow. Mihashi can’t figure out where to look; the tent is barely big enough for three people, and it feels like all of it is taken up by Abe. “Mihashi?”

“Gehe…?” Feeling shaky, he sinks to his knees, holding out one of the bowls. Then taking it back, unsure if it was the one he’d eaten from earlier. Before he can figure it out, Abe grunts an exasperated noise and takes both from him, setting one on the ground.

“Oi, come sit.” Abe taps the ground behind him. Confused, Mihashi kneels facing his back, but Abe makes another low noise and tugs on him until he turns. “I’m completely bushed. Be my backrest so I can sit up and eat.”

Mihashi glances back in time to catch Suyama giving them an odd look, but then does his best to settle in with his bowl and be the finest makeshift chair he can. And definitely not think about how firm Abe’s back feels, how close his bare skin is. How warm he feels, how silky his hair is on the side of Mihashi’s neck as he tips his head back with a groan that Mihashi can feel rumbling through his own ribs.

“You have no idea how good this tastes right now.”

Suyama huffs out a laugh between softly chanted invocations. “Good to be missed.”

“Mihashi had to eat  _ my _ cooking yesterday morning.” Abe lolls his head right back on Mihashi’s shoulder, giving him a sidelong look that sends sparkling heat down Mihashi’s spine. “Didn’t you?”

“It was! It was fine!” Mihashi chirps, hardly daring to move even though he’s practically trembling.

Suyama snorts. “Don’t bother lying about it, I’ve seen what he does to food.”

Sitting up straighter, Abe chuckles. “See, making good food’s nothing if you have nobody to appreciate it.  _ That’s _ the service  _ I _ bring.”

Mihashi glances over his shoulder at them.  _ Abe seems…more comfortable now. Now he’s not just alone with me. _ He sets his bowl down and draws his knees up to his chest, smiling sadly.  _ I’m glad he’s feeling better. _

“There, that’s as good as I can do for now. I’m pretty much tapped. …You sure I can’t look at that shoulder real quick?”

Abe shakes his head with a grunt, then rolls his shoulder back. “Looks worse than it is.”

“Tonight, then.” Suyama’s voice is gently insistent.

“Yeah, yeah, later.”

“Okay, then.”

Mihashi hears a  _ shuff _ and then the sudden influx of noise as the tent flap opens. The thick canvas is nowhere near soundproof, but when the flap falls again, it seems strangely quiet.

“Are you eating?”

Mihashi stiffens. “Y-yes!” He grabs the bowl and shoves some in his mouth, eyes sliding to the side and what little he can see of Abe without turning his head too far. “I…already… I had some already…”

“Good!” Mihashi wasn’t prepared for any of this but he  _ certainly _ wasn’t prepared for Abe to reach back and  _ pinch _ him. Through the coat, it doesn’t hurt, but the sensation still makes him jump. “God knows where you put it all.”

Mihashi huddles over his meal. “I’m sorry…for being so little…”

Abe exhales an impatient noise, and Mihashi cringes. Especially when Abe shifts to the side, no longer leaning on him. But then Abe scooches backward until they’re almost face-to-face, his thigh alongside Mihashi’s own. Tentatively, Mihashi looks up. Then ducks back down.  _ Abe looks mad… _

“Look…” Mihashi doesn’t, though he can peripherally see Abe smush one hand against his face with a sigh. “I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you. Do you not…do you not get that?” Abe sets his bowl down, reaching out to try and coax Mihashi’s knees down, his arms away from his face. “That vodyanoi would’ve drowned me, or I could’ve got hurt worse in the river. And I never would’ve made it more than a few steps inland that night without you to help.”

Mihashi blinks dully.  _ Abe’s just saying that, he’s… _ But he can’t resist the warm pressure of Abe’s palms, his fingertips on his jaw, tipping Mihashi’s head up until he looks at him.

Abe huffs incredulously. “You saved my damn life, even though I can only imagine how fucking terrified you were. And you stuck with me. When that…”

He squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, and for the first time, Mihashi really looks at him. Really notices the jagged ridge of angry scar tissue running down from his shoulder over his chest, almost to his navel.

“Ever since I got away, I’ve been looking forward to the day I met Haruna again, but I’m also…” Abe shakes his head. “If you hadn’t been there with me when they spotted us, I don’t know if I would’ve been able to--”

Before he can think better of it, Mihashi clambers into Abe’s lap and hugs him.

It’s different from at night, different face-to-face like this. When he presses his face against Abe’s shoulder, bare skin catches against his lips and warms his cheek. And Abe’s arms sliding under his coat and around his waist, there’s something more immediate about them now. Mihashi’s lips part on a soft exclamation; so much is welling inside him, he doesn’t know if he wants to cry or laugh or just…

Abe breathes shallowly, cheek pressed hard against Mihashi’s temple. Slowly, slowly, he turns, nosing against Mihashi’s cheek in a way that leaves him whimpering softly. Close, so close, and--

“Hey, Oki wants to know if--whoa.”

Guiltily, they both fling themselves back. Mihashi can’t even look at Mizutani.

“Hi,” Abe says, sounding almost as uncomfortable as Mihashi feels.

“I didn’t mean to interr--”

“You didn’t. Just…just get on with it, Mizutani.”

“Oki just wanted to know if you wanted seconds or can he scrape out the pot.”

Abe groans softly, rubbing his face again. “Yes. I’ll want more. Mihashi, you feel up to grabbing another bowl for me?”

“I’d! Rather not!” Mihashi squeaks. He can feel both of them looking at him quizzically, but he can’t bring himself to uncurl.

“That’s fine.” Abe stretches and bends his leg. “I think I’m good, anyway. Don’t need to be lazy. I’ll be out in a sec, just gotta throw clothes on.”

From behind his fingers, Mihashi can see Abe giving Mizutani a belligerent stare. He’s glad he’s not on the receiving end of it.

“‘Kay, see you in a minute.” Hurriedly, Mizutani drops the tent flap, and Mihashi can hear his swiftly retreating footsteps.

Abe grabs his clothes, hauling them on with practiced speed; Mihashi only ogles him a little bit. Then inhales sharply when Abe turns towards him.

“I’m sorry, that…” Abe starts to reach for him, then stops himself. “I’ll give you some space.” He hands Mihashi his bowl, picking his own up. “Finish your food.”

As he rises to his feet, Mihashi summons the courage to snap a hand out and grab his pants leg. Abe freezes.

“I don’t want…space.” Mihashi swallows, heart beating rabbit-fast. “Are we… Are we gonna sleep in here tonight?”

Abe stays silent for a long time, long enough that Mihashi wonders if he’s somehow fallen asleep while standing. But then a warm hand drops to ruffle his hair, pull him against Abe’s thigh for the briefest of moments. “If you want. Yeah.” With that, Abe pushes out of the tent.

* * *

Mihashi lingers after he finishes his meal, but Abe doesn’t come back, so he pokes his head out of the tent. The camp is bustling, everyone making last minute preparations for whatever tomorrow holds. Shinooka is directing several people in binding together peculiar hexagonal frames. Others busy themselves sharpening weapons or running through fighting stances like a practiced dance. Mihashi tugs lightly on his slings; he might not look as cool doing it, but he wants to practice too.

He sees Abe off to the side and looks away quickly, colouring. But Abe calls out to him, beckoning him. Eyes darting around, Mihashi edges over to where he’s seated next to Nishihiro.

“Nishihiro can make us glass.” Abe grins at him, as though nothing out of the ordinary were going on, as though his insides aren’t doing acrobatics at being close again.

“It’s pretty simple, though there isn’t much sand on this beach…” Nishihiro sets his palms on what looks like a pile of dirt and sand. There’s a faint flash and crackle of blue light, and then he brushes away the top layer. He holds out a small rough nub that catches and reflects the sunlight. It’s about the right size and shape, and Mihashi can feel how delicate it is.

“You should give them a shot.” Abe holds out another that has a small plug of wax on the end. “Figure out if this’ll actually work.”

Mihashi takes the filled bullet with a soft inhale. “But…but aren’t all your potions…”

Abe smiles again. “They brought my pack! The stuff I wanted to arm you with was in there anyway. C’mon, let’s try ‘em out!”

Abe nabs some charcoal, then they duck out from under Sakaeguchi’s smoke dome. After walking for a minute, they spot one of the first trees they’ve seen in a long time, a gnarled thing that claws away from the sea with grey dead-looking branches. Mihashi sets up several meters away, kicking the dirt to give himself firm footing, as Abe hikes over to the tree. He draws a rough bull’s eye with the charcoal before crouching down and messing around with the roots.

Mihashi waits patiently while Abe returns. He’s moving a lot easier than this morning, but there’s still a slight stiffness to his steps that leaves Mihashi with his brows knit in worry.

Abe glances over his shoulder with a grimace. “I left a little offering, just in case there’s one of those…things from the forest in there. Don’t think they’d take kindly to having their tree pummeled.”

Fussing with the bullet, Mihashi gives him a nod.  _ Abe thinks of so many things… _ He couches the bullet in the cradle, winds up, and throws.

The bullet  _ thwacks _ off one of the tree’s branches and disappears into the scrub.

Mihashi clenches up. But Abe squeezes his shoulder before lowering himself to the ground. “Another one.”

This one misses the tree entirely, and the next smashes against it just under the target. Mihashi’s breath is starting to come quick, and he can’t help glancing at Abe.  _ If I mess this up, after everything… _

“Hmm… What do you think’s going on?”

_ Abe’s…not…mad…? _ It takes him a moment to change directions, but Mihashi tries to think it over, tapping a finger against his temple. “I’m…not…sure?”

Abe rubs his chin, sucking in a long breath. “Why don’t you try with some normal stones? Not like there’s any lack of them here.”

Mihashi nods to himself.  _ Abe…accepts me, even if I’m not good enough. _

“I’m gonna watch from the side, okay?” He heaves himself upright with a wince, then jogs over to take up position on a convenient rock outcropping.

Mihashi wants to ask about his knee, about how much Suyama had really been able to help. About whether Abe would truly be up for… Mihashi hides his face in his hands, shaking his head forcefully. That whole conversation…there’s no way he didn’t misinterpret something along the way. Abe’s affection was nothing more than that. But they’re going to sleep next to each other again before whatever the morning holds, and maybe that’s enough.

Inhaling slowly, Mihashi fits a stone into his sling, winds up, and throws.

This time, it buries itself directly in the center of the target.

He glances over at Abe, catching a toothy flash of a smile. “Again.”

With each stone he slings, he can feel tension draining away. Abe seems pleased with him; he starts directing him to hit various small targets around the tree, crowing happily when Mihashi manages a tricky shot. Mihashi nods to himself.  _ Abe said the most important thing is to hit. Even if I can’t do exactly what he needs me to do, even if I mess up the fancy stuff, I can do that. _

Nishihiro walks up, holding out a square of cloth bundled around a bunch of small shapes. “How’s it going?”

“I…”

“Some hiccups, but it’s been a long day.” Appearing at his side, Abe drops a hand on Mihashi’s shoulder, leaning against him to look at the bundle. “Fantastic. That should do us.”

“Good.” Nihshiro exhales heavily. “It’s a pretty small magic, but still… I’d like to get my rest before tomorrow. I’m not exactly used to this kind of crazy stuff, not like you guys.”

“Good idea. We’ll definitely need you tomorrow.”

“You guys, too. Good to have you back.” Nishihiro gives them a friendly wave and heads back towards the camp.

Abe watches him leave, then gives Mihashi’s shoulder a squeeze. “You ready to try the new ones again? I’m gonna watch these from the side too.”

Mihashi nods. He helps Abe fill a few of them from a waterskin and seal them shut. Then he takes up his position again, eyes flicking from Abe to the tree. Taking a deep breath, he fits the bullet in the sling and throws.

This time, it shatters against the second ring of the target.

Mihashi stands frozen in the same pose as when he released, blinking at the dark splatter on the old wood. Abe bites out a restrained cheer, then looks at Mihashi. “Good. Let’s finish them out.”

Each time, Mihashi hits closer and closer, until he’s showing the same accuracy as with normal ammunition. Abe calls shots for him again, and it becomes something like a game. When he runs out of the bullets, he’s almost disappointed.

Once he realises Mihashi’s out, Abe hauls himself up, sauntering over. “Way better. What do you think changed?” Abe jerks his thumb back towards camp, and they gather up the remaining bullets and set out together.

“Um… They’re…they  _ are _ still lighter,” Mihashi flicks a glance Abe’s way to make sure he’s not mad about Mihashi bringing it up again. “But I think? Throwing the rocks before helped me…feel the difference. Before, my hands were…confused?”

“Mm. It’s too bad I didn’t watch those first throws. I could definitely see your stance and motion changed when you were throwing them the second time.”

“Abe can see all that?” Mihashi gives him a wide-eyed look. “A…amaz--”

“I  _ also _ think you relaxed, so we’re going to need to work on that.”

Mihashi flinches. Then side-eyes Abe. “When… I think…a thing that relaxes me is…w-when Abe was…touching me…” It’s not entirely a lie.

“Really?” Abe hums thoughtfully, grabbing Mihashi’s hand and giving it a squeeze. “This do? Ah, but if we’re in the middle of a battle or something…”

“This is good!” Mihashi squeaks.

“Hey…” Still holding onto him, Abe tugs him to face him. “We’re not alone anymore. Whatever happens, we got everyone here with us, working together. They’ll support you too. You just have to throw with everything you’ve got.”

_ Together…  _ Mihashi meets his eyes, inhaling slowly, then gives him a decisive nod. Seeming pleased, Abe turns them back towards the camp.

“If we had time, bet we could even figure out hand signals for this stuff…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mizutani is having a very difficult day;;;;
> 
> Koschei (the wizard in the original story) is supposed to ride around on a regular horse that flies but fuck that shit it's boring
> 
> how do its hooves make noise in the air? motherfuckin MAGIC


	6. Chapter 6

Mihashi keeps eyeing the sun, willing it along in its gradual descent towards the western coastline. There’s plenty to do, at least; he helps Abe unpack esoteric equipment and larger bottles filled with a myriad of colours from his salvaged pack, then holds the glass bullets carefully in tongs while Abe fills them with steady hands.

“You sure you can keep ‘em straight?” Abe drips wax onto the end of a vibrant yellow-filled bullet, waiting for a second, then takes it from him to drop on a small pile.

Mihashi nods more confidently than he feels.  _ Maybe I can empty out some sections of my pouch… _ “Yellow is…paralytic. Grey is acid.” He shudders, remembering the sizzling liquid from the Beast. “White is…is sticky.”

“Good. And?”

“And if I’m not sure, don’t use them.”

“Perfect.” Abe smiles broadly, giving Mihashi a little happy thrill. “Now, can you help me refill my case?”

Mihashi tries not to visibly sag as he scoops the glass bullets up and then picks up the tongs once more. He’d been hoping they would turn in now. Even if he’s wrong about…what Abe wants.

After a few vials, Abe nudges him with his foot. “I’m making sure we get this done now so that--”

Pebbles clatter on the edge of the smoke dome. Mihashi whips around in time to see Izumi coming in at full tilt, transforming back into a human in a confusing mass of limbs as he skids to a halt.

“Monster! Sky. It’s…”

He’s cut off by a distant, rasping roar.

Abe grabs Mihashi by the chin, jerking his attention back to him. “Mihashi. We need to do this  _ now. _ ”

Mihashi does his best to focus on holding the little vials steady. Behind Abe, Momoe rapidly interrogates Izumi. She snaps her fingers at Ai-chan, beckoning her over while she issues terse orders to the group. Mihashi wonders how on earth they’re going to protect the tiny dog. Only for a second: she does a lively little turn at Momoe’s feet, mouth hanging open happily, then braces her paws, giving her head a shake. Before his eyes, her muscles bunch and swell, her limbs lengthen, her fur coarsens, and what was once a cheery canine grin becomes a fierce snarl. Mihashi looks away, eyes widening, remembering other stories he’s heard about Momoe. About a shining angel of vengeance on a wolf’s back, cutting through enemy lines like they were nothing but paper dolls.

They can hear the beast’s thundering hoofbeats now, and beneath it…

Mihashi has dealt with the smaller demons, chorti, plenty of times. In ones and twos, they’re more of a nuisance than any real danger.

This doesn’t sound like one or two.

_What are we going to do?_ _We can’t fight that thing…definitely not_ and _fight a bunch more monsters…_ He scans Abe’s steady features, biting his lip. _Abe said we’re not alone anymore. But is that enough?_

The smoke dome drops like water dumped from a bucket. As it sloshes and dissipates over the tundra, Mihashi follows Momoe’s gaze to the roiling mass bearing down on them. And above that, the furious winged beast crying its smug triumph to the fading light.

“Mihashi, you think you could sling one of these?”

He hears, but can’t divert his attention until Abe grabs his hair and yanks him back to face him and the heavy vial in his hand.

“I  _ said _ , d’you think--”

“I-I’ll try!”

They hold eye contact for a long moment. Behind them, everyone ranges themselves along the south edge of the camp, waiting. Abe nods once, lips crooking in a smile.

“Good. Better be right, ‘cause if you drop this stuff on us, it’ll be bad. I’ll hand ‘em to you, so just find a good place and throw.”

Mihashi nods, hopping to his feet and scanning around. Mizutani and Izumi have taken position on a slight rise, readying their bows and waiting for the chorti to come in range; he hustles over to them with Abe hot on his heels.

Mizutani glances over his shoulder at him, giving him a nauseous smile, then clasps his crossbow close to his chest. Black and purple tendrils of energy erupt from him, surrounding the four of them; it scares Mihashi for a moment, but it feels…good? Somewhere, he thinks he hears a woman laugh ecstatically, and he feels invigorated, electric. Their companions just a few meters away seem to move sluggishly: Nishihiro’s hands come up at a snail’s pace, a bolt of arcane energy slowly accumulating between them.

“This one.”

Abe slaps a bottle into his palm, and Mihashi remembers they’ve got a job to do. He unhooks his longest sling, couches the flask as securely as he can, sneaks one last look at Abe, then winds up and throws. The second it’s in the air, a thought hits him, warm and heady with the promise of praise. Mihashi’s fingers find a regular bullet and send it sailing on an intercept course. With a distant  _ krsh _ , the bottle shatters a few meters above the horde. And then explodes into streaks of phosphorescent fire that rain down on the chorti.

With a raw whoop of joy, Abe grabs him around the shoulders and shakes him roughly before releasing him with a laugh. He hands Mihashi another bottle, eyes shining. Even as he winds up again, Mihashi’s mind replays Abe’s face just now, his breath so warm on the side of his neck.

Beside them, Mizutani and Izumi let off arrow after arrow, breath punching out raggedly with each release. To his right, the melee fighters dig in, weapons raised and ready, some eyeing the transformed Ai-chan nervously. No matter how many missiles the three of them send flying, the chorti seem endless, spilling towards them like a flash flood. The noise is deafening already, a thousand voices crying out and laughing, snorting and growling.

A hand falls heavily on his shoulder, yanking him backwards. Mihashi struggles to keep his balance, whirling to see Momoe. Her eyes glow and her hair waves slowly as though caught in some intangible wind.

“Abe. Mihashi. You’re going.”

They don’t ask for an explanation, just launch into a run. Peripherally, he sees Abe taking a heavy pull from a bottle of that familiar pumpkiny liquid, dropping it to a discarded coat as they dash through the camp. On his other side, two heavily-laden figures race the same direction.

Behind them, Momoe roars a battle cry as the two groups crash into one another.

His boots hit shallow water. “How…we--”

In front of him, Shinooka shakes out one of the frames she’d been working on earlier. Sakaeguchi sweeps a hand along its bottom, trailing immense kelp floats in its wake, then Shinooka drops the whole thing on the water. They both scramble onto the platform and Sakaeguchi starts wrestling with the next frame. Shinooka hands hers to him, then turns, sticking her hand out to Mihashi.

“It’s gonna be a bumpy ride, so hang on,” she says, face pale but resolute.

The second he puts his weight on it, he can feel it. The sea is relatively calm, but the platform still rolls alarmingly under his feet, and both he and Shinooka have to help steady Abe enough to get up. Sakaeguchi is already two hexagons ahead of them, attaching the floats to yet another frame. Stepping carefully, they join him on the foremost panel.

Mihashi glances from the remaining panels in Sakaeguchi’s arms to the panel closest to the shore. Seeming to think the same thing, Abe takes a step back. “Should we grab them?”

Shinooka smiles with a shake of her head, pulling a strange contraption of wire and crystal out of a pocket. She flicks a switch, and the platform under them shudders with some strange life, glowing sigils lining the struts. Before their eyes, the unoccupied platforms start rolling themselves along each others’ edges towards the front of the train.

“They’ll only move if they’re unoccupied, so we should try and keep up. But Mihashi,” he flinches when she turns to him, “we’ve got ranged weapons, so we’ll stay towards the back.” She tosses the controller to Abe, then unslings a long-barrelled device that looks like a bowless crossbow, gripping it with white knuckles.

Mihashi glances at the beach. The sunset catches on the blades of Oki’s polearm as he twirls it down and through two creatures, then kicks another in the chest. Beside him, Momoe swings her axe as though she were harvesting swathes of wheat, body alight. Nishihiro flings something glittery in a wide arc, making the chorti in front of him fall back clawing at their faces, while next to him, Mizutani slaps a palm against the ground, sending a gout of arcane fire in a thick line through the army. Suyama’s staff blazes white-hot with holy energy, and even this far out, Mihashi can hear the way it sizzles when it strikes the creatures. Beyond him, a hulking figure tears through the devils, seizing them in her jaws and flinging them to crunch into their fellows.

Behind all of them, Izumi ranges back and forth, releasing arrow after arrow into the horde but with his gaze trained on the Beast roiling above them.

The platforms move quick enough that they have to jog to keep up. Mihashi snatches another look when he can, hoping to catch sight of the figure he’d glimpsed the first time they saw the Beast. But with the confusion of the creature’s body and the fading sunlight, it’s impossible to tell.

The next time he snatches a look, most of the party are blurs of movement already. But Izumi, he can see clearly. He’s turned in their direction. And firing on the Beast. That is now unfurling towards them, jaws gaping on a grating bellow.

“That…!” He bats at Shinooka’s arm; she glances over her shoulder, then gives him a tense nod as she spins to face the rear. Mihashi shoots a look at the island; it’s getting closer but it still seems painfully far. And there’s something strange about its shore. He doesn’t have time to consider it, though. Just unhook his longest sling, grab a handful of stones, wind up, and throw. Beside him, Shinooka drops to one knee, levelling her device at the creature. It booms; Mihashi yelps, fighting to stay in place as the platform bucks with the concussive force.

They fall back as the last panel rattles its way up the line. It’s impossible to tell if they made their hits, or how much the Beast cares. But there’s nothing for it but to keep trying. He manages two volleys before they fall back again.

“Shinooka, that grappling hook.” Abe reaches back imperiously, not looking at them. Behind him, Mihashi can see the island looming closer. Looming, because it’s floating two stories above them. And all around its edge, cascades of water are roaring…up?

Without looking, Shinooka unsnaps a thick metal bar from the back of her belt, shaking it with a snap of her wrist. With a heavy series of clacks, it unfolds into a hand crossbow that she smacks into Abe’s palm before going back to reloading her device.

Curious as he is, Mihashi doesn’t feel he can look at what Abe’s doing.  _ I have to trust them. I have to do my part. _ The beast is approaching surprisingly slowly, almost as if smugly savouring its advance. Mihashi can see it clearer than ever before, see its multitude of beady eyes, its bristly hair, its serrated teeth. He searches in vain for any sign of Haruna; something foreboding settles in his stomach. This time, he loads the sling with a handful of acid shot, hoping the creature’s not immune.

Below it, he catches sight of a small shape thrashing through the surf. Izumi leaps into the air, shifting as he hits the water. Mihashi’s heart leaps as a grey-blue dolphin streaks towards them.

Back, back, until his heel hits someone and Mihashi turns to see Abe crouching, securing a line to the platform. There’s another running parallel to it, and Sakaeguchi grabs both, a latticework of thick vines climbing between them all the way up to a patch of clear beach above.

The platforms rock violently when Izumi leaps on. He rolls, coming up beside them with his bow at the ready, and Mihashi has half a second to wonder where it goes when he transforms before the Beast sounds out again and drags his attention away.

He pulls back for another throw, but Izumi swats his hip. “Go! We’ll cover you.” Nodding, Mihashi turns towards the makeshift ladder and scrabbles up after Abe and Sakaeguchi. The vines feel just barely sturdy enough and the spray is already making them slippery for his icy fingers, and he worries whether it’s really a good idea for all three of them to climb at once.

A grinding sound reverberates even deeper than the Beast’s roar, seeming to rattle inside his head. Mihashi frowns up at the island in confusion, then throws a glance over his shoulder. He stops, mouth hanging open.

Hurtling through the air towards the Beast’s head is a large mortar, and standing inside it, one cackling with glee and the other holding on for dear life, are Tajima and Hanai.

They smack broadside into the Beast’s jaw with a crunch Mihashi can feel in his chest. Tajima leaps with the momentum, running up the creature’s head with daggers flashing in either hand. Hanai draws a bow as the mortar spins away, letting fly an arrow as soon as it levels out.

“Mihashi!”

He glances up to see Abe hanging over the edge, glowering down at him. Swallowing a whimper, Mihashi flings himself into the climb, grabbing Abe’s arm as soon as he can reach. With strength that makes his stomach squirm, Abe hauls him up one-handed. And then they’re scrambling to their feet, and Mihashi gets his first proper look at Buyan.

It’s dazzling.

Lush is the next word that comes to mind, except… Stretching ahead of them is a forest made of ice, complete with draping vines, broad leaves, and lavish flowers. Dying sunlight catches in it, a riot of blues and golds and pinks overwhelming the senses. And all around them, water crashing up, up, over the beach and up the precipitous sides of a small mountain rising at the island’s center. Close to the top, the water converges above a broad ledge; peeking over it, Mihashi can just spot an isolated, conspicuous dash of matte green.

Abe hollers his name again, and he shakes himself.

“The glue bullets! Sakaeguchi, c’mere!”

“I’m good!”

Mihashi fishes some out, confused until Abe casts two down, stomping on them and grinding his boots into the released liquid. He follows suit. To their left, Sakaeguchi slaps a palm against the soles of his boots, covering them in ranks of thick thorns, then starts sprinting up the beach. Mihashi scampers after him, feeling the ice “sand” of the beach cake onto his boots.

Behind him, he can still hear battle. The group on the shore raises a distant din, the clamour of many voices punctuated by magical explosions and clangs. He can hear the retort of Shinooka’s weapon and the grinding of Hanai’s strange aircraft, the screech of the Beast as he slams into it again. And carried on the wind, Tajima’s infectious laughter, buoying Mihashi up, up, over glassy rock and log and fern-filled hollow.

_ We can do this _ . _ All together, we can do this. _

He presses his lips together in a tremulous little smile and flings himself up the mountainside.

The shadows are deepening, and he’s having to keep more careful watch of where he steps. Beside him, he can see Abe plunging on with a dogged determination, clutching his shoulder and breathing hard. Sakaeguchi is lost in the brush somewhere behind them. He wonders in passing if Izumi and Shinooka took advantage of the Beast’s preoccupation to climb after them.

_ Wherever they are, we’re still together. As a team. _

He vaults over a rocky outcropping, then skids to a stop just short of pitching into a small, turbulent lake. The cascades of ocean water arc up from the mountain’s sides, meeting in a cathedral arch high above that flows down from the peak into the lake. The air is full of chill mist and the constant roar of the water.

On the lake’s far shore, a lone,  _ real _ oak tree spreads its boughs over a narrow spit. When he spots it, Mihashi cries out in triumph, a sound echoed by Abe as he climbs up beside him. They exchange a look as they catch their breaths, then start sprinting around the shore towards the tree.

Abe orders him behind an ice boulder, then pulls out a bottle of blue fire. Mihashi doesn’t need to see what he does to know to cover his ears and curl up small. Abe drops beside him just in time before an explosion shatters behind them, jettisoning ice shards, bark, and water through the air. When he scrabbles up to look, he can see a small crater gaping at the oak’s feet. Eager to investigate, he picks his way over.

Cradled in the oak’s roots is an ornate wooden casket. Its faces are carved with strange designs that his eyes can’t quite follow, seeming to catch the dwindling light as though inset with metal. The blast has ripped a hole in the top of the chest, and inside, he can see something moving.

“Get ready!” Abe calls, and Mihashi unhooks a sling, fingering his ammunition.

What leaps out is not what he expected.

It has the rough shape of a hare, but instead of eyes, daisy blossoms unfurl on either side of its head, and downy seed pods form the tufts of its ears and tail. Its skin seethes, a mass of vines and fronds that reminds him of Sakaeguchi’s vine ladder. Also reminds him of the things you find crawling on a long-dead corpse.

The hare turns its head to look at them, its blank “eyes'' unmoving, but its chest ruff heaving just like a real animal. Abruptly, it bounds across the lake as though the surface were solid ground. Mihashi worries it will sink once it’s downed, but his hand releases anyway. The stone flies true.

The writhing strands of the hare’s body simply part around it.

Mihashi stares at it, stomach dropping.

“Good try!” He hears Izumi’s voice at the same time as the  _ thwick _ of his bow and the blunt blast of Shinooka’s weapon.

Both missiles pass through the hare, one streaking down into the water, the other lodging in the bank too close to their feet, showering them with more scraps of ice.

Mihashi fires one of the paralytic bullets at it, but again, the hare opens around it with a sickening slurp, leaving the glass unharmed to drop into the water. Abe swears beside him.

Eyes wide, Sakaeguchi steps towards it, thrusting out his empty, shaking hands. The hare stops dead in its tracks, skin squirming. Sakaeguchi grits his teeth, clenched hands pulling apart; the hare swells, tendrils wriggling out from its centre like roots seeking purchase. With a shriek, the hare flies apart.

From inside, a small brown ball unfurls itself and shoots into the air with a melodic cry.

Mihashi already has a bullet cradled when sudden lethargy strikes him. His head lolls forward, arms dropping to his sides. The song is so beautiful, filling the gathering darkness, somehow sad and happy all at once. It seems to hold everything ever lost or treasured, everything hoped for and dreamed of. Mihashi swings his head to the side, opening one eye to look at Abe, who seems similarly entranced.

_ Ah, that’s good. This feels nice. It’s almost too dark for me to hit it anyway. _

He can just see it, silhouetted against the mist. Its form is strange, uneven, and he frowns, trying to make sense of it. From its breast down, it looks like a normal bird, but it has the chest and head of a maiden, and it sings its lovely melody from human lips as it slowly circles up into the sky. He can almost discern words, and he’s certain if he just listens a bit longer, he’ll be able to understand something important…

He feels fingers brush against his own, twine with them. Mihashi smiles gently.  _ Even better. We can just stay like this. _ Abe takes his hand fully, but instead of feeling his warm palm, Mihashi feels something small and cylindrical between them.  _ Strange…but this is fine too. _

Abe crushes it.

Glass shards pierce through the fog in his head. Mihashi cries out in pain, trying desperately to gather himself in this moment of lucidity. He can’t see the bird. Mihashi clutches his sling, breath quickening with panic.

Suddenly, something blue-white streaks up into the sky and explodes, bathing the island in full moon brightness.

_ Thank you, Nishihiro. _

Without hesitation, Mihashi pinpoints the bird and looses at it. His bullet flies true, and once more, he hears the crunch of shattered glass, yellow liquid flashing briefly against its plumage. The bird chokes, its song cut short, its wings seizing up mid-flap. With a gravelly exhale, it plummets to the water just in front of Mihashi.

He lunges for it, fingers finding soft feathers in the frigid, turbid waters. Mihashi stumbles to his feet, holding it up with a triumphant crow. It dissolves in his hands, an indiscernible foul gunk running down into his sleeves. Mihashi gasps.

But there’s still something in his hands, something smooth and round and pulsing softly.

Mihashi stares at the egg for a split second, then brings it down on his knee.

He thinks he hears someone snicker.

Everything goes white.

* * *

“Ugh.”

Someone grabs the front of Mihashi’s coat, hauling him up through water he doesn’t remember falling into. He tries to open his eyes, but everything feels too bright and too loud and too much. Moaning, he bats at the hand on him, but there’s something in his own hand that gets in the way.

“Interesting.”

He can feel the warmth of another body close to his face for a moment, then he’s dropped to the ground like so much refuse.

“ _ This _ is what you go running off for, Takaya? A dumb little pipsqueak who almost drowned himself in knee-high water?”

_ Who’s…Takaya…? _

Mihashi manages to turn his head towards the voice. He can see Abe slumped on the bank, and behind him…

He’d been expecting some wizened old man, rickety and wart-covered. Perhaps some stern middle-aged patriarch with an impressive beard. Haruna is…gorgeous. Young. And yet no less intimidating for all that. He reminds Mihashi a little of the forest witch, seeming larger than the bounds of his physical body and filling the coved mountaintop. Power seems to spill from him, crackles of non-light flowing from his shoulders like a shroud. And he can’t seem to focus on Haruna’s face.

Haruna clucks his tongue irritably. “Aww, I forgot you can’t talk yet! You can thank your little friend for that.” He props Abe up, grabbing his chin to work his mouth like some puppet. “‘I didn’t run off for some piece of ass, I had big plans!’ Course you did. Well, you fucked that up, didn’t you?” He shoves him forward roughly.

Abe groans weakly.

Mihashi curls on his side. The thing in his hand is even colder than his soaked body, than the icy grass under his cheek, thin and smooth but catching on his coat. He squeezes it, eyes blinking one after the other, head still full of buzzing pain.

_ Needle? _

_ I have to… _

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. ‘Less you’re willing to accept the consequences.”

Mihashi’s eyes snap back to Haruna, who stands, advancing on him slowly. He still can’t bring Haruna’s face into focus. Flashes of large, expressive eyes that shine like an animal’s, a cocky smile--or is it a snarl, teeth erupting where no teeth should be? Mihashi shrinks back, creaking out a protest.

“Or did Takaya not tell you? Probably didn’t, he likes controlling information.” Haruna shoots an almost fond smile over his shoulder, then crouches down. This close, it’s like being caught in a sandstorm, a thousand thousand stinging lashes whipping even his covered skin. “He wasn’t lying. My heart’s in there, and if you snap it, I will die.” He says it almost conversationally, reaching out to brush a frozen lock of hair out of Mihashi’s eyes. “But so will he.”

“Ah?” Mihashi finally manages.

“Where’d you think he got that nasty scar? Or have you not seen it yet?” Shooting Mihashi a positively gleeful look, he swoops back to Abe’s side, yanking open his coat and shirt. He brushes too-pointy fingers over the knotted scar; Abe stutters in a shallow breath, twitching away. “I gave him this.” He seems like a child showing off a craft.

_ I don’t know… _

_ But Abe would say…I have to… _

Mihashi presses his cheek against the ice, pushing himself up a little ways, bringing the needle up where he can see it. “Why… He’s in…here…”

“Eh?” Haruna turns to Abe, shrugging. “Not great at talking, is he? Must have other…talents.” He leaves Abe’s side, settling down between them as if the icy shore were a luxuriant pile of pillows. “I s’pose there’s no reason not to tell you. Not like any of you are going anywhere.”

He smiles. It…crackles in a way Mihashi doesn’t want to think about. Any hope of outside rescue is quickly vanishing.

“Y’see, big magics like this, they take a lot. I guess I could’ve done it on my own, but that would’ve left me totally drained. Wide open. And I wasn’t exactly well-liked, not even then. So you get someone else in your place.” He leans back, looking up at the sky in fond reminiscence. “ _ Lots _ of someones, all working together! Takaya was just the only one who survived that particular venture. Weren’t you, Takaya?” he calls over his shoulder.

_ They did it…together? _

Eyes still closed, Abe spits out, “Fuck you.”

Haruna gives Mihashi a deeply scandalised look before leaning in with a smile. “Anyway, couldn’t have him just turning around and using the knowledge against me, could I? Some of it, I hid from him. And as for the rest… I took a piece of him, and bound it in there. You should’ve seen him,” he leers, electricity fizzling off him and scouring Mihashi’s skin. “He’s so serious! He was so stoic, so proud to be helping out, even with the others dropping around him. Right up until I slit him open and stole it.”

He drops his head back, rolling to the side to look at Abe. “Thought the whole self-preservation instinct thing would keep us from ending up here. Guess I--”

“Mihashi, stop listen… Just break it!” Abe sounds like his body thrums with as much pain as Mihashi’s.

Haruna surges into his space, grabbing Abe by the chin and pushing his head back. “Don’t interrupt! It’s rude.”

“Let…! Let him go! Or I…! I’ll…” Slowly, painfully, Mihashi props himself up on an elbow. Only to collapse when Haruna looms over him.

“You’ll what? You can barely talk!” He snickers into his hand. “No, here’s what you’re gonna do. You’re going to hand that needle to me without doing anything to it. I’m going to put it back where it belongs, then I’m going to take my little battery back where  _ he _ belongs. Oh, and not before I tell my loyal Akimaru to lay waste to all you pathetic little ‘adventurers.’ Assuming he hasn’t already.”

Mihashi blinks at the needle.  _ Why isn’t he just taking it? _ His eyes flick to Abe, but he just shakes his head.  _ What can I… _

“Oof, sorry, forgot you’re still all floppy. I want you to give it properly. I want Takaya to know you’re willingly betraying everything he’s fought for.” Haruna grips his skull like a ball, making Mihashi yelp with pain. But when he releases him, that oppressive painful static that hasn’t ended since he broke the egg vanishes, leaving him with only his exhaustion and waterlogged clothes weighing him down. “Now…” Haruna holds out his hand patiently.

Mihashi gets to his knees. He wonders where the rest of the team is, if they’re still alive. If they’re watching this tableau, if they hate him. He meets Abe’s eyes; dull and pain-fogged as they are, Abe seems to plead through them.

“Break…it.”

He looks at the fine silver needle in his hand. It’s thin, delicate in his palm; he could easily snap it. It also looks dangerous, longer than any needle he’s seen before.

_ Abe’s heart is…inside here? _

_ He said we’d finish this…together… _

There are things that he’s learned, things that make sense, follow outside logic even if Mihashi doesn’t understand completely. And there are some things he just knows, things that follow no sense but their own.

Mihashi tightens his grip on the needle. He hears Haruna’s curious hum, Abe’s determined exhale. Then he plunges the needle into the left side of his chest.

It slips through the layers of cloth like they were gossamer, a shriek of white-hot pain as it pierces his skin. When it hits a rib, the other end bites through his glove, into his palm, but Mihashi grits his teeth, shifts the trajectory, and pushes.

Through the pounding in his ears, he can hear Abe yell, can hear someone further away calling out, but he drives the needle deeper.

Something sticky and warm coats his hand, making it hard to hold on. But, as if seized with a life of its own, the needle burrows deeper, until Mihashi’s just clasping his palm against his heaving chest. It’s freezing, a streak of ice impaling him, aching and sharp all at once. Something inside him resists. Bursts.

_ Please…let him live. _

He starts to fall forwards.

Heat and light and sound erupt around him.

A whirlwind lifts him slowly, until he’s dangling in the air. It whips up water and slivers of ice around him, but he doesn’t feel the sting, not now. Mihashi squeezes his eyes shut, every nerve alight with something…not pain exactly.

_ Please… _

His chest is warm now, too warm, too full, an ecstatic rush of sensation radiating out to the tips of his fingers and toes. Mihashi cries out with it, feeling as if light were tearing the very fabric of his being apart. Too much, it’s too much, just like he feels every time Abe looks at him, too much, every time they touch. Too much that he’s been longing for for far too long.

_ Just let him live. _

As suddenly as it came on, the whirlwind disappears, and Mihashi drops to the ground. Faintly, he hears a body stumbling along the bank, feels the impact of hands next to him. And then he’s wrapped in familiar arms, hauled up and cradled against a chest that feels warm as his own.

“You stupid,  _ stupid… _ ”

_ Abe is…crying? _

Eyes still closed, Mihashi brings a hand up to pat at Abe’s face, fascinated by the wetness there.

Abe chokes on a sob and grabs his hand, crushing it against his cheek. Mihashi finally manages to crack open his eyes, releasing a soft sigh with a smile. Not letting himself think, he shifts his grip to the back of Abe’s neck and pulls him down into a kiss.

Abe’s breath rushes out through his nose. For a moment, it seems like he might drop Mihashi. Then he gathers him close, humming a soft, needy noise. He tastes like salt and dust and hunger and Mihashi can hear someone whooping from the other side of the lake but all he does is flush and pull Abe just a little closer.

“You…!”

Just like that, he remembers it’s not over, he has no idea what he just did. Just that Abe is still alive. He flails up, gasping and wide-eyed. Abe twists beside him, ready to confront whatever Haruna has to throw at them.

“How  _ dare _ you, you little--”

“S-stop!”

Haruna stops.

Mihashi stares at him, panting hard, his own confusion reflected back on Haruna’s face. He looks…different, now. Human, though unmistakable power still radiates from him.

Haruna gives his head a shake, bringing his hands up filled with crackling energy.

“Don’t! Just…just don’t do…anything!” Mihashi thrusts out his hands, as though that would do more of…whatever is happening.

“Tell him to sit. And put his hands behind his back.” Abe curls an arm around him, leaning against Mihashi heavily.

“Sit! And…your hands!” Despite Mihashi’s stuttering, Haruna obeys.

The icy ground crunches as their companions run up, encircling Haruna with weapons drawn. Mihashi breathes a sigh of relief, sagging against Abe. Shinooka pulls something out of her belt, dropping to one knee behind Haruna.

“Get your hands off me!” Haruna tries to pull out of her grip, but he’s still constrained by Mihashi’s words, and she handily wrestles his arms into her binding.

She pats him on the shoulder as if reassuring him, then stands. “Don’t bother trying to whip off any spells while you’ve got those on.”

Haruna stares at the ground, puffing out furious breaths.

“Call…” Mihashi shifts his weight, touching his chest lightly where the sticky blood is starting to freeze. “Call off…the monsters.”

Slowly, Haruna lifts his eyes to Mihashi’s, unnameable emotions flitting across his face. His eyes narrow slightly. “Your wish is my command.”

Somewhere, the Beast rasps out a low call.

“Let’s… Does anyone else really,  _ really _ wanna get off this island?” Sakaeguchi eyes Haruna mistrustfully.

“Best idea anyone’s had all day. Let’s go.” Izumi prods Haruna’s back with a still-nocked arrow.

* * *

The trek back to the shore takes longer. The warmth in his chest is fading, and Mihashi’s soaked clothes weigh him down. He stumbles more than once on the rocking platforms, but each time, Abe’s there to catch him. And each time, it sends a pleasant shock through him.

_ I kissed him! _

_ I don’t think he hated it! _

_ Oh god, everyone saw… _

He hunches his shoulders, blushing, then sneaks a look at Abe. But his face is an impassive, drained mask. Mihashi shifts his gaze to their captive, walking straight and proud even with Izumi and Shinooka flanking him and keeping a tight hold of his arms.

Mihashi still has so many questions, not least of which is, what are they going to do with Haruna? It’s obvious his part in this isn’t done, but… Mihashi turns the thought over and over. Big consequences, law, politics…that was never for him. Maybe there would be some way to transfer this power he has to someone else. Maybe he could go back to normal.

_ So what? Back to Gunma, back to hunting regular game? Back to hiding? _ He looks down at his hands, one still streaked with blood, and at the braided slings bouncing at his side. Then back at Abe.  _ I want to keep doing this. _ Mihashi curls in on himself, smiling softly.  _ I want to keep throwing with everything I have. _

“Abe?”

“Mm?”

“What will you do…after…?”

Abe squinches one eye closed, rotating his shoulder. “Sleep. Eat way too much, then sleep more. Maybe hit up Suyama, when he’s got any healing to spare.”

Mihashi worries at the hem of his tunic, frowning. “That wasn’t…that…I didn’t mean that.”

“I know. I’m avoiding the question.” Abe looks over at him, cocking a smile. “Can we have this conversation when we’re on dry land?”

He flinches. For the first time in a while, he peers past Haruna towards the camp. “…We’re almost there, though?” From here, he can see the silhouettes of several figures re-pitching tents and putting out an unwanted fire. And on the beach, waiting for them with her fists on her hips and gouts of dark ichor splattered across her armour, is Momoe, Ai-chan, once more in her small form, frolicing in the surf at her feet.

“We figured you’d done it, when the devils suddenly ran off! Good work.”

Even Mihashi can’t miss the way Haruna’s body clenches up at her voice. Haruna casts a dirty look over his shoulder at Abe, who gives him a blandly innocent stare back. With a deeply aggravated grumble, he squares his shoulders as they finally reach the shore.

Mihashi doesn’t pay much attention to the particulars after that. Someone--Sakaeguchi, probably, grabs his shoulders and pulls him up the beach, admonishing him for not complaining about his soaked clothes. His coat is stripped off and a warmed blanket draped in its place, and he’s pushed down next to the fire. Shortly after, someone else shoves a warm mug in his hands, then flops down beside him.

He takes a sip. It’s just hot water with some aromatic herbs thrown in, but it’s like ambrosia right now. There’s low conversation murmuring around him, tired laughter pealing out now and then. It’s a companionable sound; the whole thing makes him think of the tail end of festivals, safe draped on his father’s back or resting his head on his mother’s knee as the grown-ups’ chatter washed around him.

“You’re smilin’ weird!”

He blinks open heavy eyes to see a freckled face peering at him. Mihashi breaks into a full smile. “Tajima came…back!” Dropping the mug, he rolls forward into a hug.

Tajima squeezes him back, chuckling. “Yep! ‘Course I did.” He pushes Mihashi back, eyes lit up. “Was that a cool entrance, or what?”

Mihashi nods vigorously. He has the funny feeling someone’s looking at him, but he doesn’t have the wherewithal to worry about that. “The coolest! I was so happy…seeing…” He curls one fist in front of his chest. “I’ve been… There was… I was…so scared f…for…”

Tajima jabs him gently. “But I’m okay now. And so’re you!” He shifts to sit beside Mihashi, leaning back on his hands with a noisy sigh. “Sorry it took me a minute to get back to camp. We tried to chase that thing! Well, actually, Hanai kinda  _ had _ to chase it, ‘cause it shook me off.” He grins broadly. “It was super fun! Caught me mid-air like  _ pwoooow! _ ”

“Tajima…is amazing!” Mihashi chirps.

“You ain’t heard the half of it!” Tajima waggles his feet towards the fire. “Soon’s you look less like death, I’ll tell ya all about our escape. Don’t ask Hanai, he’ll tell it wrong. Oh!” Cat-like and quick, he shifts to lean towards Mihashi, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. “I heard you had a li’l detour of your own. You gotta dish!”

Mihashi blushes, covering his face. “It wasn’t…it wasn’t like that…”

“Oh? Not what Izumi was sayin--”

“Mihashi, come. I want a look at your hand.” Abe pats his shoulder, not pausing on his way to the tent they’d spoken in only a few hours ago.

Mihashi’s flush deepens, and for a moment, he doesn’t know what to do. He fumbles for his mug, gulping down the last dregs of tea that hadn’t spilled, eyes huge.

Tajima swats his arm, grinning. “Go on!” Mihashi sets down his cup and scrabbles to his feet, tugging the blanket around his shoulders, then dashes after Abe with renewed energy. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” Tajima calls after him, then cackles; ahead, Abe’s shoulders hike up to his red ears.

Mihashi closes the tent flap behind them, then sinks to his knees, suddenly afraid to look at Abe.

“C’mere.” Abe settles cross-legged and pats the ground in front of him, then starts rummaging in his pack.

Tentatively, Mihashi scooches closer, sneaking a look at Abe’s face. It’s hard to see in the filtered firelight, but it seems neutral, dispassionate.

_ Ah, I made a mistake after all… _

“Here it is.” Abe sets a small vial down, then turns fully to Mihashi.

And grabs hold of his shirt, hauling him close and kissing him.

Mihashi squeaks but doesn’t waste time before clutching at Abe’s tunic, his hair, anything he can get his hands on. Abe’s lips are like fresh water, like the sun, like something long forgotten and deeply missed. Mihashi huffs out a needy noise, leaning into him, and Abe opens his arms, gathers him closer. The blanket has fallen from his shoulders, and he feels strangely naked underneath, as if with a single touch, Abe had laid bare his heart in all its raw feeling.

_ His heart… _ Mihashi can feel a strange warmth emanating under his ribs, something new and unfamiliar that nonetheless feels like home. He breaks off the kiss, pressing one hand over his chest, then surges back into Abe’s space with a low noise. Abe hums into the kiss, arm curling low on Mihashi’s back, and it’s all the encouragement he needs to clamber into Abe’s lap. Like this, chest to chest, like this, the warmth inside him roars alive, almost as if striving to reach Abe’s heart. Mihashi moans, fingers groping down to the hem of Abe’s shirt, desperate for more contact.

“Ah…” Abe grabs his hand.

Mihashi’s eyes flick open, and for a long moment, they just stare at each other in the fuzzy darkness.

Abruptly, Abe smushes his face against Mihashi’s shirt, groaning. He rubs his face against his chest, then peers up at him, looking as though he’s collecting his thoughts.

“It’s been a long day, we shouldn’t--”

“Is Abe…” Mihashi brings a hand to his cheek, hesitating for a moment before running it up in to his hair. “It’s Abe’s…first…time?”

Abe cringes, wrapping his arms tighter around Mihashi. Intent on being patient, Mihashi just pets his hair quietly. He’s aching to move, to press into the warmth he feels in Abe’s lap, to demand his lips once more. But he can wait.

“It’s not like I really had opportunity,” Abe grumbles. “And anyway, I was busy.”

“That’s…fine! It doesn’t…doesn’t bother! Me.”

Abe huffs, squeezing him again. Finally, he inhales, lifting his head to nuzzle against Mihashi’s face. “I’m not… A lot has happened to me, okay? I’m kind of…messed up in some ways.”

Mihashi nods, eyes falling shut. He presses a gentle kiss to Abe’s cheek. “Abe is…strange, but I’m…I’m strange too.”

“Wow, thanks.” Abe chuckles, then presses a light kiss of his own to Mihashi’s jaw.

Abe just holds him for a long moment before humming thoughtfully. “You asked, earlier, what I’m going to do. Truth is, I got no idea. I thought… I didn’t expect there to be an after to all this. But…I think…” He leans back and gropes for Mihashi’s hands, bringing them up cradled in his own. “No, I  _ know _ I wanna figure out what’s next with you.”

Sudden tears prick at the corners of Mihashi’s eyes. He struggles out of Abe’s grasp enough to wipe his face on his sleeve, then clasps his hand around Abe’s. He has that wondrous feeling in his chest again, rich like honey and twice as sweet. He smiles down at their hands; he could stay like this forever.

Abe stares down at their hands like he’s not entirely sure what to make of them. Eventually, he inhales slowly, then grabs Mihashi and shunts him back on the floor. “Right. In the meantime, I want a look at that hand.” All business once more, Abe scoops up the vial he’d found earlier, giving it a firm shake. Its swirling contents release a faint golden glow, growing until it’s as if the tent were filled with candles.

Mihashi ducks his head, flushing; somehow, this is all way more embarrassing when they can see each other properly. But before he can shrink away, Abe grabs his left hand, examining it for a moment before gently stripping away his glove.

He clucks his tongue. “It looks like there’s still glass in here! You should’ve said something.” Muttering exasperatedly under his breath, he searches in his pack once more.

Mihashi just watches him, smiling shyly as he holds his hand still.

Tomorrow, there will be decisions and the long journey home. Tomorrow, he’ll begin to unravel what his choices today will mean going forward. But for now, all they need is here. Like they have the past two nights, they sleep curled close together. Not against the cold, this time, no, but towards the warmth they nourish between them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> somewhere in camp, Haruna is getting a very confusing boner...
> 
> thank u for coming with me on this journey. I wanna...write more for this universe, but I hope this is a satisfying ending point. I especially wanna tell you all wtf tajihana were doing and how they ended up with Baba Riou's mortar.
> 
> the Hare was inspired by these artworks: https://twitter.com/aspenceart/status/1343251192399454210?s=20
> 
> the Beast was very much inspired by the art of Hannah Comstock: https://hannahcomstock.com/store poor akimaru, I wonder if he got cursed or something...


End file.
